The answer is ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

It’s not the writers’ fault, it’s not the weather’s fault, it’s not the fact that the four acting awards went to foreigners (the first time since 1964).

It was the Oscar show itself.

On a scale of one to ten, ten being the highest, I’d give last night’s Oscar snooze fest a four. They lost points for forgetting Brad Renfro in the Memorial segment. More points were lost because Roger Deakins failed to win despite or maybe because of double noms. What can I tell you — I’m a sore loser.

The things about the show that brought it up from a two to a four were:

Tilda Swinton. Not for her performance which I rate as good but not great, but for her fiery hair and individuality. She’s the most unique looking actress since Katharine Hepburn.

Joel and Ethan Coen. As a Coen watcher since Blood Simple, it’s amazing to see how little they’ve changed. They still hang together, still hate Hollywood hoopla, still stay true to themselves and their vision. And they hate to smile. I like that.

Diablo Cody. Any exotic dancer, present or past, who can write a screenplay that’s smart, funny, and real, which actually makes it to the screen, is okay in my book.

Jon Stewart. Not only was he witty as always, but calling back Marketa Irglova, the Best Original Song winner, to give her a chance to speak, was classy.

Harrison Ford. How can we not like a dude who can drink that much and still manage to read his lines without slurring? Almost.

Marion Cotillard. Her performance in the Piaf biopic was stunning. Still, awarding her the Best Actress Oscar over favorite Julie Christie was an upset. Upsets are not boring.

There were a few interesting happenings between Zs, but not many. It won’t kill me to miss future Oscarcasts. But then, I say that every year.