The Best Picture category isn't the only thing that bulked up.

What is it about the Academy Awards? Intellectually, it's hard to muster up that much enthusiasm about who "wore it best" (Ang Lee) or how modest Katniss will be in her acceptance speech, hopefully avoiding a First Wives' Club reference that sounded like she was hating on Meryl Streep this time. And yet ... we still feel compelled to watch. Maybe it's because secretly, deep down, we still find it fascinating that the guy who does the voice of Stewie looks like the host of a reality game show about finding true love by having a dance-off on a stripper pole.

Or maybe it's because we're just suckers, who deep down believe that Beasts of the Southern Wild might still possibly have a chance against Argo or Lincoln.

Come join us, will you, on this the most magical of evenings for producers, people who are married to movie stars, and dress designers? We'll be hosting a live chat below. Just click the big countdown button and you're all set. Got it?

Great.

This year we're making our predictions in order of the film and/or celebrity, not the award. That's because this time ... it's personal. No, seriously: between Kathryn Bigelow and Ben Affleck being iced out of Best Director, the Weinstein Bros. not having a snowball's chance in hell of scoring a big win and the fact that we're practically giving an award to Anne Hathaway just to make her stop sing-crying, there's going to be a lot of sore losers tonight. But don't worry; we're using a time-tested formula for predicting the bitter ceremonies, including taking all of the guesses on Twitter and averaging them against Nate Silver's predictions. Then we throw those out the window and  get ourselves angry over Lincoln’s inevitable windfall of awards that should be going to that movie that had all those great New Yorker articles written about it and stars a 9-year-old who wasn't even an actress when she started the film, which is about 50 percent more method than Daniel Day-Lewis's decision to become an Italian cobbler every time he's taking a hiatus from Hollywood.

So enjoy, and don't forget to tune into our live chat on the Oscars, starting at 7 p.m.!

Zach Galifianakis and not-Daniel Day-Lewis (Funny or Die)

We're waiting for you, Affleck.

2013 Golden Globes, Bill Murray

If you are too busy watching the Australian cycling thing and can't understand what the hell is going on with Twitter (honestly, we don't know who you follow, but no one on our feed actually bothers naming the winners of these things), here are the latest updates for the 2013 Golden Globe Awards.

Best Motion Picture, Drama
WINNER: Argo
Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture, Drama
WINNER: Daniel Day-Lewis, Lincoln

Best Performance by a Supporting Actress in a Motion Picture, Drama
WINNER: Jessica Chastain, Zero Dark Thirty

Best Motion Picture, Drama
WINNER:

Best Motion Picture, Comedy or Musical
WINNER: Les Mis

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture- Comedy or Musical
WINNER: Hugh Jackman, Les Mis

Best TV Series, Comedy or Musical
WINNER: GIRLS

Best Director
WINNER: Ben Affleck, Argo

Cecil B. DeMille's Lifetime Achievement Award/Freestyle Portion of Evening
WINNER: Jodie Foster

Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series - Comedy or Musical
WINNER: Lena Dunham, Girls

Best Animated Feature Film
WINNER: Brave

Best Performance by an Actress in a Television Series - Drama
WINNER: Claire Danes, Homeland

Best Foreign Film
WINNER: Amour

Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series - Comedy or Musical
WINNER: Don Cheadle, House of Lies

Best Screenplay
WINNER: Quentin Tarantino, Django Unchained

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in a Motion Picture
WINNER: Anne Hathaway, Les Miserables

Best Performance by a Supporting Actor in a Mini-Series or a Motion Picture Made for Television
WINNER: Ed Harris, Game Change

Best Performance by an Actor in a Mini-Series or a Motion Picture Made for Television
WINNER: Kevin Costner, Hatfields & McCoys
(RUNNER-UP: Benedict Cumberbatch, Sherlock)

Best Performance by an Actress in a Mini-Series or a Motion Picture Made for Television
WINNER: Julianne Moore - Game Change

Best Television Series - Drama
WINNER: Homeland

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Motion Picture
WINNER: Christoph Waltz - Django Unchained

Best Performance by a Supporting Actress in a Mini-Series
WINNER: Maggie Smith - Downton Abbey

Best Performance by an Actor in a Television Series - Drama
WINNER: Damien Lewis - Homeland

Best Mini-Series or Motion Picture Made for Television
WINNER: Game Change

Best Original Song
WINNER: "Skyfall," Adele

Best Original Score - Motion Picture
WINNER: Life of Pi

Best Actress in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy
WINNER: Jennifer Lawrence, Silver Lining Playbook (Also, best speech? Y/N?)

Daniel Day-Lewis in Lincoln.

Okay. So Lincoln, Steven Spielberg’s bloated $50-million history lesson about Abraham Lincoln’s final days in office as he attempted, by hook or crook, to abolish slavery, is noble, civic-minded, exhaustingly researched, immaculately detailed, crowded with a parade of cameos by good actors who look like Smith Brothers cough drop models, and noteworthy for another critic-proof performance by Daniel Day-Lewis in the title role. It is all of those things. But Lincoln is also a colossal bore. It is so pedantic, slow-moving, sanitized and sentimental that I kept pinching myself to stay awake—which, like the film itself, didn’t always work.

The Civil War is in its fourth year. Lincoln has already signed his famous Emancipation Proclamation, a year before his re-election to a second term. Now he wants an anti-slavery amendment to guarantee that the slaves he freed will stay that way forever, protected by law. He needs votes from a hostile, divided Congress to pass it. That means getting the support of Democrats—rabid right-wing conservatives in those days—as well as liberal, left-wing Republicans. (How times have changed!) And that’s what Lincoln is about. People pining for a comfortable cinematic biopic about the controversial 16th president like those made, in the past, by Henry Fonda and Raymond Massey will be disappointed to learn that the film’s interminable self-indulgence sheds no new light on the life and death of the man himself. Based on the book Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln by historian Doris Kearns Goodwin, it boasts a dry, ponderous screenplay by long-winded playwright Tony Kushner, whose verbosity does to movies what a House filibuster does to action on a health-reform bill. It’s a whopping drag.

Instead of concentrating on Lincoln and the war that divided a nation, the movie stays off the battlefield and focuses on the internecine shenanigans behind closed doors on Capitol Hill—the House debate, the ranting and shouting, the insults in both aisles of Congress, the arguments defending and denouncing blacks. Instead of action, we get intellectual ideas set forth while storming around conference tables behind the scenes of history. Ugly sets make 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue look like a rooming house. The sun never shines in 1865. Instead, garish lighting filters through dirty windows into dark rooms that look like the inside of a Hershey syrup can. Into this matte-finish gloom marches a cumbrous crowd of expensive-dress extras, most of whom Mr. Kushner never bothers to identify. Oh, look, it’s Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Lincoln’s oldest son Robert, a rebellious college student who defies his parents’ wishes (every family has one). And there’s David Strathairn as Secretary of State William Seward. Here comes John Hawkes as a lobbyist, and an unidentifiable James Spader. Who is he playing? He’s gone before we get to know him. The ensemble enters through one door and exits through another: Jared Harris as General Ulysses S. Grant, and Jackie Earle Haley, Hal Holbrook, Tim Blake Nelson, Joseph Cross and a cast of hundreds playing senators, soldiers and servants. Jean Kennedy Smith, the last surviving sibling in the Kennedy dynasty, is listed in the credits as “Woman Shouter.” It’s that kind of movie. An endurance test with guest stars.

Upstaging them all is Tommy Lee Jones as passionate abolitionist Thaddeus Stevens, chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee, who has all the bitchy lines, and a secret black mistress to boot. He’s belligerent, tortured and committed to the abolitionist cause (with personal motives that don’t always extend to the country’s best interests). His cantankerousness gives the film a desperately needed pinch of comedy. And there’s no mistaking the valuable contribution by Sally Field, adding fire in an inspired performance as Mary Todd Lincoln, the woman behind the man. Daniel Day-Lewis does what he can to delve beneath the legend and make Lincoln an ordinary man: Lincoln telling corny jokes, Lincoln visiting the wounded in a military hospital, Lincoln talking turkey with black soldiers, Lincoln threatening his wife with the madhouse for her grief over her favorite son killed in battle, Lincoln fumbling with his hands yet writing speeches that changed history with clarity of vision. But his power is diminished by a script that forces him to explain his theory of equality by quoting Euclid on the rules of mechanical reasoning. In reality, Lincoln believed in equality under the law, but not racial equality; he had no use for blacks and maintained a strong personal belief that whites were a superior race. In his efforts to get his amendment passed, Honest Abe was not so honest either. He and his cabinet of rivals were not above bribery, lies, suspending habeas corpus or bending the Constitution to break the South’s economic infrastructure. These are facts Spielberg conveniently overlooks. The title is misleading. Lincoln is about the votes, not the man. I’m more interested in the way the movie shows the terrible physical toll the passage of the 13th Amendment took on the man’s life than in the disparate personalities he fought, cajoled and strong-armed in order to pass it. The movie ends on Saturday, April 15, 1865, when Mary bosses her reluctant, bone-weary husband into the carriage that takes them to Ford’s Theatre. There is no mention of the name John Wilkes Booth.

In all, there’s too much material, too little revelation and almost nothing of Spielberg’s reliable cinematic flair. But on the plus side, there is nuance and wit, and Daniel Day-Lewis always makes you care. And you can’t deny the timing of Lincoln. In a divisive election year when the Sunday morning pundits knock themselves out debating whether the political system still works, it’s a good time to revisit a year when it did.

rreed@observer.com

LINCOLN

Running Time 120 minutes

Written by Tony Kushner (screenplay) and Doris Kearns Goodwin (book)

Directed by Steven Spielberg

Starring Daniel Day-Lewis, Sally Field and David Strathairn

2/4

Daniel Day-Lewis (Getty Images)

It must be Oscar season, as the biggest and most traditional media outlets are suddenly devoting space to lengthy considerations of new movies. After last weekend's 60 Minutes profile of Lincoln director Steven Spielberg, Time has dropped a profile of the press-shy actor Daniel Day-Lewis. The profile spends time considering his widely-discussed and challenging method of preparing for roles by immersing himself into character. For Lincoln, Mr. Lewis, who plays Honest Abe, would text his co-star Sally Field nineteenth-century limericks.

“He’d sign it, ‘Yours, A.’ I would text back as Mary, criticizing him for the waste of his time when he might have been pursuing something more productive," said Ms. Field.

At least it was more loving treatment than Mr. Day-Lewis gave The Boxer costar Emily Watson, who told Time: "Daniel and I didn’t really speak—we agreed not to. I found that difficult. I found it quite lonely and isolating and a bit scary."

The veracity of this claim aside — you might need a shovel for the grains of salt you'd need to believe this — let's just play out this scenario: Day-Lewis would immediately make Sherlock Holmes 2 about ten-times more intriguing; the interactions between the Oscar winner and Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock would have all-time potential; and it would be an opportunity to see Day-Lewis do something entirely new — in this case, play the heavy in a big-budget studio affair. There is no downside here, other than this being a crappy movie.

But face it: As much as we all like to hold Daniel Day-Lewis up on a pedestal because of his talent, care of craft and commitment, it's not like he only makes good movies. Would Sherlock Holmes 2 really be worse than Nine? If it includes any scenes of Moriarty singing and dancing or Fergie in any capacity, then yes.

Avatar

What's the story: It's so nice that James Cameron, the ostensible King of the World, decided to tackle something small for his follow-up to Titanic. Ha! If you haven't heard of Avatar by now, we can only assume you've just arrived to earth from Pandora. After years of hype and speculation, the 3-D spectacle hits theaters today and—surprise!—apparently delivers on all the hype and speculation. (And, really, when was the last time something like that happened?) The reviews, even from the most hardened critics have been glowing, filled with terms like "awesome" and "beautiful," and it's even drawn comparisons to The Jazz Singer because of its game-changing ability. Here at the Observer, our Sara Vilkomerson sums up Mr. Cameron's latest thusly: "Staggering outside after two hours and 40 minutes of this thing, I felt like I had to lie down and take a nap." Someone get us a pair of 3-D glasses and a blanket, stat!

Who should see it: Watchmen's Dr. Manhattan (he's blue like the Na'vi aliens!)

Nine

What's the story: Nope, this is not "The Tiger Woods Story." Nine, based on the Broadway musical adaptation of Fellini's 8 1/2, comes from Chicago director Rob Marshall and features a cavalcade of female stars ranging from Oscar contenders like the lovely Marion Cotillard and Penelope Cruz to old war horses like Sophia Loren and Dame Judi Dench and everyone in between (Kate Hudson, Fergie, Nicole Kidman). And! As the man these ladies spend the movie orbiting around, the milkshake drinking Daniel Day-Lewis. The reviews for Nine have been mixed, but if you think we're going to pass on the opportunity to see Daniel Plainview sing and dance, you clearly don't know us very well.

Who should see it: Tiger Woods.

Have You Heard About The Morgans?

What's the story: To answer the question posed by the title: unfortunately, yes. This latest bit of romantic comedy pabulum—the type of film we're sure New York Times film critic Manhola Dargis would have an expletive ready for—stars the nominally charming Hugh Grant and Sarah Jessica Parker as a warring Manhattan couple banished to Middle America by the Witness Protection Program. (Don't ask.) And, wouldn't you know it: they fight! And have culture clashes with the locals! And, uh, you might as well just rent The Ugly Truth or The Proposal instead.

Who should see it: Those unlucky enough to get shutout of Avatar showings.

Also opening this weekend: Jeff Bridges gets his Oscar-hype on in the country western drama Crazy Heart; and all hail Emily Blunt as the Queen in The Young Victoria.

To the already overcrowded list of year-end disappointments bringing 2009 to a sorry close, you can add Nine. With a legendary Broadway score; director Rob Marshall (Chicago) hoping to repeat his musical Midas touch; and an all-star cast that redefines that overused word “fabulous,” a lot of Christmas bonbons were expected from the anticipated movie version of the 1982 Broadway classic. Alas, the movie delivers thistles instead.

The original musical, based on Fellini’s largely autobiographical film 8½ and directed by Tommy Tune, was pure genius. The movie is boring, pretentious, empty, heartless, interminable, cold and as richly flavored as a hard-boiled egg. The basic premise remains the same: A stressed-out director without a single word on paper for his next film retreats to a spa for a rest cure. One by one, the female muses in his life appear among the white tiles to inspire him, dressed elegantly in black. Let the razzle-dazzle begin. But in the movie, Guido, a director with a phony accent (a hopelessly miscast Daniel Day-Lewis, about as decadently Italian as Mickey Rooney), pushes a cast of thousands all over the place: press conferences, the sound stages of Cinecittà, the Appian Way, the Fountain of Trevi, the Amalfi Coast and every historic monument in Rome. When he sings, he’s climbing scaffolds like James Bond doing chin-ups. Songs have been dropped and characters added, to no avail. There’s his long-suffering wife (Marion Cotillard); his suicidal mistress (a scantily clad Penélope Cruz); his butch costume designer (Dame Judi Dench in a wig with Buster Brown bangs the color of doggie-doo); his dead mother (a matronly and badly photographed Sophia Loren, of all people); a neurotic movie star (Nicole Kidman) in a strapless gown wading through fountains; a fat prostitute on the beach (pop diva Fergie), who tried to seduce Guido when he was 9; and enough noisy chorus lines to make you reach for a Valium.

They all sing … and sing … and sing! Covered with bling, and not always in tune. Ms. Cruz does an erotically charged number inspired by Jack Cole’s choreography for Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. The musical numbers all look alike, but Dame Judi belts out “Folies Bergere” better than the others, trailing a mile of red feathers. In a senseless role added to the film for no valid reason, a clueless Kate Hudson plays a trashy journalist from Vogue dancing on a runway that looks like a rock video set. Busty, porcine Fergie, beating a tambourine, leads a stage full of sluts on a stage full of sand. Sophia Loren should sue. Doesn’t Mr. Marshall know you don’t shoot a woman nearing 80 from under her chin? Because Guido is reaching back inside his brain to pull out memories, real and imagined, the movie plays leapfrog with time frames, switching from color to black and white without purpose. Onstage, there was so much glamour I couldn’t decide whom to concentrate on. In the movie, they’re so obnoxious I just wanted them to shut up and go home. The movie is busy, but in their failed homage to Fellini, they’ve lost his mystery and humor.

The fragmented script, expanded to include an army of men, now features jealous husbands, nervous producers, doctors with stomach pumps and hypocritical, autograph-collecting Catholic cardinals from the Vatican who ban Guido’s movies but secretly adore the sex scenes. The writers (including director Anthony Minghella, who died before it was finished, which might explain some of the holes) never find the words to deliver Guido from his midlife crisis and describe the detritus of his messy life. The women who swirl through his dreams would make better studies if they added up to a form of therapy, but the deadly script uses them as nothing more than props. Regrettably, none of the fury and passion that made them so memorable onstage has made its way into this loud but lifeless film spectacle. Without the necessary insight into these flamboyant women that a coherent script would provide, you end up caring about none of them. The characters strut and screech and shake their butts in a sexual faux frenzy, but remain as one-dimensional as cardboard. They knock themselves out cold, but it’s like a greatest-hits assembly of pop tunes and dirty dancing from floor shows in Atlantic City, inserted to make you forget that nothing else is going on. Nine is giddy, empty-headed and loud, but it never manages to prevent the audience from snoring. It’s a musical train wreck.

rreed@observer.com

Monday: How I Met Your Mother
Is Monday night the new Thursday night? Tonight brings the season premiere of House, a new Gossip Girl, a two-hour Heroes (yep, that show is still on the air) and the launching of the CBS Monday night comedy block, which includes the series premiere of Jenna Elfman’s Accidentally on Purpose. Phew! Us? We’ll be watching Gossip Girl at 9 p.m., natch [Ed note: But some of us will be watching House]. But before that, we’ll definitely tune in to the season premiere of How I Met Your Mother. We aren’t even sure whether to call the comedy a cult hit anymore—after all, tonight marks the start of season five—but it still feels like less people watch this than they should (this despite the fact that every person we know counts it as one of their favorites.) Come on, folks! What are you waiting for? [CBS, 8 p.m.]

Tuesday: North by Northwest
Our favorite Alfred Hitchcock film manages to be his most accessible. You know the story, but in brief: Everyman extraordinaire Cary Grant gets mistaken for a spy and away we go; cue a cross country chase that culminates on Mount Rushmore. What we’re always amazed by whenever we watch North by Northwest is how it manages to be so thoroughly modern. Whereas some old movies don’t hold up, this one feels like it could be released today and become a huge hit. [TCM, 8 p.m.]

Wednesday: Mercy
Apparently 2009 is the Year of the Nurse. Who knew? We have yet to see Mercy, but from the promos it feels like the new series will to slot itself somewhere in between the darkness of Nurse Jackie and the treacle of HawthoRNe. Nurse Veronica Callahan (Taylor Schilling) has just returned from a tour of duty in Iraq and—wouldn’t you know it—she’s the only person at Mercy Hospital that actually knows what they’re doing! We can’t say we’re all that interested in Mercy, but that it features Michelle Trachtenberg—as the naïve young nurse—makes us take notice. Still, truth be told, we hope Mercy gets canceled, just so Ms. Trachtenberg can become a full-time cast member on Gossip Girl before the year is out. Georgina Sparks forever! [NBC, 8 p.m.]

Thursday: Grey’s Anatomy
Speaking of bad doctor soap operas: Grey’s Anatomy is back! The show you love to hate returns with a two-hour season premiere that will feature the official death of George O’Malley (T.R. Knight, probably happy for the first time in three years) and the recovery of Izzie Stevens (Katherine Heigl, probably still hating every second she has to spend working on Grey’s). With Ellen Pompeo pregnant, and, Ms. Heigl and Patrick Dempsey taking off for episodes at a time to star in movies, expect this season to be a transitional one. Whether Grey’s can become the next ER—forever regenerating its sprawling cast—rests solely on what happens this year. [ABC, 9 p.m.]

Friday: Gangs of New York
The most disappointing news of the fall? That Paramount shifted the Martin Scorsese-Leonardo DiCaprio thriller Shutter Island from its October release date to February. Boo! Now where are we supposed to get our Scorsese/DiCaprio fix? We’ll just have to settle for Gangs of New York instead, which isn’t as good as The Departed and isn’t as bad as The Aviator in the Scorsese/DiCaprio oeuvre. Them aside, the real star here is Daniel Day-Lewis (would you expect anything less?). As the villain, aptly named Bill the Butcher, Mr. Day-Lewis does Daniel Plainview-before-Daniel Plainview, stomping and chomping scenery like a Method Godzilla; he’s brilliant, even if the movie never actually reaches that height. [IFC, 2:45 a.m.]