Night of 1,000 Beyonces

While everyone else weighs in on who got robbed of an Oscar nomination (I believe Brad Pitt will survive the injury), let me just say that I’m thrilled, thrilled, thrilled that the following was snubbed for Best Actress: Beyonce Knowles.

I don’t get the appeal of this woman. Yes, she’s pretty. Yes she fits nicely into form-fitting bedazzled gowns. Yes, she can gyrate her booty like no other, save perhaps Shakira, but this does not a goddess, diva or talented singer make.

My beef with her dates back to the year Chris Rock hosted the Oscars. Some may remember it for Rock’s unfortunate pot shot at Jude Law, who Sean Penn then felt compelled to awkwardly defend. (No, this has slipped your memory?) I remember it as the Night of 1,000 Beyonce Performances.

For some inexplicable reason, Ms. Knowles was asked to perform all or most of the nominees for Best Song, none of which she actually sang in the films. This meant that Emmy Rossum, classically trained as a vocalist by the Metropolitan Opera, was forced to watch from her seat while Beyonce trilled what should have been Rossum’s star turn from “Phantom of the Opera.”

I’m not saying that Knowles getting shut out of Best Actress is some sort of karmic payback. She’ll still get to warble a tune or two from “Dreamgirls” on the upcoming Academy Awards telecast. Unless… Perhaps this year’s host, Ellen DeGeneres, will be inspired to ask her pal Melissa Etheridge to handle all of the singing chores at the Oscars. (Etheridge, let’s be honest, is decidedly non-bootylicious but is actually nominated for her song from “An Inconvenient Truth,” a toe-tapping flick if ever there was one.) Now that would be awesome. I think Emmy Rossum would agree.