Cameron talks about her use of electric lighting, and conservation thereof. "I don't turn the lights on unless I'm in the room. And even then I turn them all the way down. It's sexy!"

The countdown is on When the 10-minute warning is called, a panic breaks out. The crowd surges toward the balconies and the tuxedoed stampede turns slightly scary on the stairs.

Over the PA the announcer counts down the minutes to airtime, warning that anyone not seated when the show begins will have to wait 25 minutes until the first commercial break. Sasha Baron Cohen fights against the tide to get down the stairs.

Inside the well-chilled theater, no one is seated. With three minutes to go the crowd on the ground floor is milling freely – Cameron can clearly be seen still working the aisles.

Par-tay Central Just before the show, producer Laurie Ziskin comes on stage to so-so applause. "Oh my God" she screams to the mingling masses, "You look so beautiful! Are you ready to party?"

The "par-tay" theme will persist throughout the night. At the commercial breaks, instead of soul restoring silence the crowd is treated to DJ music spun by KCRW's Liza Richardson and entertained by a dancer who boogies through the crowd in the Orchestra section.

Ziskin asks the 150-some nominees to rehearse standing up in unison for the show's opening, telling them they don't have to be "statues. You can high five. You can wave high mom." The lights dim. Everyone finds their seats and the party begins.

Let's focus, people Oscar is an unforgiving room to play. The crowd is too hyper and manic to give themselves up to any bit. The room is too big, the house lights stay on, the air conditioner blasts. Blackberries sit in every other lap. Only the heaviest schmaltz can truly focus the crowd.

The smaller moments, like Ellen's wanderings through the audience, are swallowed by the vast cavern. Another unfortunate effect of the fiesta-theme, especially after being charged up by live dancing to "Sex Machine" at the break, is that it's all the more painful when the show comes to a crashing halt for every sound editing award and acceptance speech.

And for the first two hours, we get a lot of those. After Alan Arkin's speech, it's clearly time to stop trying to watch and head down to the bar. Going down the stairs I pass Jackie Earl Haley, having just lost out to Arkin and now climbing the stairs alone. Where could he be going, I wonder? Leaving and re-enacting his scene from "Breaking Away"?

Where the action is--sort of Traditionally, the best action at the Oscars happens in the tiny ground floor "George Eastman Room" bar. Last year, most of the A-list snuck out by mid-show and held court there.

But this year the big names put in little quality time in the Eastman. Most of the stars drift through and grab a drink, but few stay long. Perhaps they are all partied out from the fiesta in the theater.

Crowding around the TV in the bar, we strain to hear Al Gore and Leo's joint speech. One line seems to produce massive applause in the theater, if indifference in the bar. "What'd he say," I ask the woman next to me.

"We went green."

"Excuse me?"