So, another Oscar night has come and gone, as Hugh Jackman took over hosting duties and the old format was overhauled, with much more song and dance numbers, and less acerbic putdowns. Many believed David Letterman's handling of the show a few years back to be a bit of a disaster (including the legendary talkshow host himself) but his abrasive, witty and often hilarious pops at the famous audience still stand as one of the funniest ceremony's in recent memory. Last year, brilliant satirical journalist/comedian Jon Stewart hosted when it looked like he might have to pen the whole show himself, as the writers' strike threatened even the staging of the show. But come the day, Stewart was funny, engaging and smart; just like everyone knew he would be. Yet, the show had it lowest figures in history, so the format was overhauled, and last night was the result.

Having been on an early flight to London on Monday morning, I didn't manage to stay up to watch the (apparently atrocious) coverage on Sky; but RTE did their usual, sloppily edited regurgitation the following day, so I managed to stay awake through that. Jackman was great in fairness. A funny, and hugely entertaining host, it was a nostalgic harkening back to yesteryear, when actual movie stars hosted the prestigious event. The burly Aussie is the king of the song and dance number, and this was evident throughout, as he twisted, twirled and warbled his was through an extremely fun evening.

As for the actual awards themselves.... c'mon. Kate Winslet is a fantastic actress, and should really have won an Oscar by now, regardless of her nod on Sunday night; but The Reader really should not have been nominated, pure and simple. It's a bang average film, executed with minimal impact, from a hugely uneven script. Sean Penn gave probably his strongest ever performance for the excellent Milk, but Mickey Rourke was better in The Wrestler, and it's a travesty he wasn't rewarded for that properly. He was bluntly honest on the run-up to the gong hand-out about his career, and voters obviously didn't take too kindly to that at all. Penn was extremely gracious in victory, though, and did give an amusing and rousing acceptance speech.

Danny Boyle picking up the directing gong is still a strange one. Slumdog Millionaire is obviously a film that has connected with audiences on a global scale, and Boyle did a fantastic job with it. But as a friend mentioned to me, how can he win Best Director when not one of his actors was nominated? Surely that should be an obligatory restriction for any helmer who picks up the golden baldy? In my humble opinion (and obviously not all of yours, as I've read the mixed user reviews), The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was the best film so far this year and should've won at least one of the big categories. David Fincher is a director who deserved it badly, having churned out far too many classic productions at this stage to still be ignored. It's more than a shame he didn't come away with the accolades, and I hope he doesn't have to wait as long as Scorsese did to finally get his dues.

The British will let this all go to their heads of course. A flicking onto Sky News or BBC News 24 early the following morning, echoed hyperbolic statements being uttered by ill-informed newscasters, desperate to heap praise on a film they wouldn't have seen in a million years if it wasn't for the British director and producer. Cynical? Yes, it is; but it's also gratingly true.  Remember the 1966 World Cup win, or the 2004 Rugby World Cup triumph? I have a feeling we're going to be reminded of this twice as much.