It was an amazing night at the Academy Awards. No single American won any of the top six prizes. The acting Oscars all went to Europeans and a double American – that illustrious divided egg known as the Coen brothers – won Best Picture and Best Direction.

They had said the ceremony wouldn’t happen, but the writers signed in time and host Jon Stewart welcomed us to the endearing madness. To compensate for the relative conservatism in dress wear this year – long gowns in black, white or Titian red – the set was traditionally and gratifyingly insane. Giant pistons rose from floor to ceiling behind a whale-jaws proscenium frame. Saturn rings formed a knuckle halfway up each piston, whose chrome-like outer tubing could rise to reveal glass-sheathed Oscar statues inside. Everything said Art Deco, and if you didn’t hear, it said “Art Deco” again. It was like a production of Metropolis designed by Busby Berkeley.