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MacFarlane opened with a perhaps predictably juvenile and overlong bit in which he sang about all the actresses he'd seen topless in movies, trying to have his cake and eat it too by framing it in a bit where William Shatner visited from the future to show him what it would look like if he were bombing.

Unfortunately, it was very difficult to tell the difference between pretending to bomb and actually bombing — the laughter he received seemed polite at best, and his conviction that saying "boobs" enough times would cause a room full of tuxes and gowns to quake with hilarity seemed misplaced. And then there were sock puppets. It's better forgotten.

Throughout the night, MacFarlane returned over and over to the topic of women and how silly they are — how Jessica Chastain's character in Zero Dark Thirty is an example of how women never let anything go, for instance — to the point where it seemed like his shtick would have benefited from a simple count of how many times he was returning to the well of "Women, am I right?"

“ The best hosts tease sharply but graciously; that's what made Johnny Carson a good Oscars host, and Jimmy Fallon at the Emmys, and recent Golden Globes hosts Amy Poehler and Tina Fey.

11 Flowers was inspired by an incident from Wang's youth. (Its title translates literally as Me, 11.) It is in part a portrayal of the deprivations, both material and spiritual, of the Cultural Revolution. But it just as expressively depicts the universal condition of childhood, a period of intense curiosity and profound cluelessness. Like most kids, Han can feel left out, even within his own family.

The director represents this keenly using point-of-view camera; we see through Han's eyes as he circles a table of gossipy grown-ups, peeking past arms and elbows. The director also simulates the kid's perspective through windows and steam, when hanging his head upside down and during the wooziness of a fever.

Sometimes, Wang employs the viewpoint of another character: Jueqiang (Wang Ziyi), a wounded fugitive who's hiding in the woods. He steals Han's shirt and uses it to stanch the bleeding from his side. The gesture has both practical and symbolic implications. How can the boy tell his mother he lost the new shirt? And how can innocence be restored to a bloodied China?

The movie doesn't dwell on the latter question, although the murder is followed by outbursts of teen-gang violence and Red Guard attacks on "conservatives." Like the whole country, Han's hometown is officiously governed yet prone to anarchy.

Maoism's oppressiveness is conveyed by the patriotic anthems that blare from loudspeakers — and are sung by people, including Han's parents, who prefer traditional tunes but fear being overheard singing them. The bombastic music disappears when the boys visit the woods along the river, where only rustlings and burblings can be heard. For children here, as elsewhere, nature offers both its own charms and a refuge from adult perplexities. (Recommended)

The movie Beasts of the Southern Wild is a fairy tale of a film. It might not seem to have much in common with documentaries about evangelical Christians in Uganda or the billionaire Koch brothers. But these films were all funded by a not-for-profit group called Cinereach. It was started by a couple of film school graduates who are still in their 20s. And now, with Beasts, it has a nomination for Best Picture at this year's Oscars.

Cinereach funded almost all of the $1.5 million budget for Beasts of the Southern Wild, the immersive art-house film about a child who's figuratively and literally adrift in Louisiana swamp country. Named Hushpuppy, and played by youngest-ever Best Actress nominee Quvenzhane Wallis, she vows to survive: "They think we're all gonna drown," she says. "But we ain't going nowhere."

The movie has earned more than $12 million, along with multiple awards and Oscar nominations.

Michael Raisler, at 27 years old, is one of the Best Picture nominee's producers and the creative director of Cinereach, which he founded with Philipp Engelhorn when the two were classmates at New York University's film school. They found that they shared a love for movies and a passion for social change. "Our key goal is to support what we call 'vital stories artfully told,' " he says.

As they learned about the film business, Raisler and Engelhorn learned that the money didn't go to the good movies; it went to the movies that would make more money. Engelhorn decided he wanted his film production company to be separate and apart from worries about commercial viability: "We're not protecting a potential upside or profit potential; we're protecting the vision."

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Do failing grades inspire more effort? Oxfam hopes so. The activist group on behalf of the poor has just handed out report cards to 10 of the world's top food companies, grading their commitments to protect the environment and treat people fairly.

Oxfam doesn't grade on the curve, evidently. Every company flunked. But two European-based companies, Nestle and Unilever, were at least better than the others.

Both companies have policies that are supposed to ensure that workers around the globe are treated fairly, for instance, and they're better-than-average in trying to limited greenhouse gas emissions. Nestle (Taster's Choice; Perrier) got especially high grades for its efforts to conserve water. Unilever (Lipton Tea; Hellman's mayonnaise) got extra credit for policies aimed at helping small farmers.

Oxfam also assigned grades for how companies protect women's rights, contribute to climate change, and provide information about their suppliers.

Associated British Foods (Mazola corn oil; Twinings Tea) came in at the bottom of Oxfam's rankings, but Kellogg's (Pop Tarts) and General Mills (Cheerios, Yoplait) weren't much better.

These grades, it should be noted, are based on official policies, not actual behavior. Neither Oxfam nor any other independent group has the resources to travel the globe to see first-hand how these policies are implemented on, say, tea plantations in remote corners of Sri Lanka and Mozambique.

Oxfam calls its new campaign "Behind the Brands." This strategy — targeting companies that own popular consumer brands — is increasingly popular among environmentalists and other groups devoted to social change. Jason Clay, a vice-president of the World Wildlife Fund, laid out the reasons a couple of years ago in a TED talk.

It comes down to what's practical, Clay said. We could try to convince millions of farmers to work differently. We could try to persuade billions of consumers to buy different products. But it's a lot easier for us to put pressure on a few dozen companies — huge conglomerates that order commodities from every corner of the globe.

Those companies are extraordinarily sensitive when it comes to the image of their consumer brands. They already have very specific rules for their suppliers when it comes to quality and safety. How about associating those brands with environmental quality and worker well-being?

Oxfam says it will be happy to revise its grades when companies improve their performance.

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