And here’s Alana Haim, in a lovely sort of mermaid thing. I have decided to form a filial bond with Haim tonight, because she looks utterly perplexed by the whole red carpet hoopla, like any normal person would. Kodi Smit-McPhee is here, in an ensemble so completely white that it is legitimately giving me the jitters. The last time I tried anything even remotely approaching this, I sat on an After Eight and had to go around reassuring people that I hadn’t lost control of my bowels. Jude Hill, from Kenneth Branagh’s Belfast ,is just 11 years old, and he can already levitate. We must, as one, fear him. You’ll be pleased to know that the PriceWaterhouseCoopers accountants have arrived. None of them are wearing particularly daring outfits, but this is for a good reason. If they screw things up, like they did with La La Land the other year, this makes it much easier for them to steal away into the night unseen. DJ D-Nice has turned up, thank god, and he’s wearing a big hat. Please join me in pitying whoever has to sit behind DJ D-Nice’s big hat tonight. To try and distract us all from the red carpet inanity, I’m going to point you at some of The Guardian’s fine Oscars coverage. Why not spend this inordinate time before the ceremony by reading: Peter Bradshaw’s Oscar predictions! A report from the surprisingly entertaining Governors Awards! Our annual Oscars hustings! And, just for the hell of it, how this year’s Razzies went! The ceremony may not start for another two and a half hours but, judging by the red carpet show (on E if you’re watching in the UK), stars are already flocking to the theatre. Jamie Lee Curtis and Lily James have already shown up, for example, which can only mean one of two things: either they’re the sort of people who like to turn up to house parties while you’re still getting dressed, or they’re pathologically attracted to hanging around in lobbies for punishing lengths of time. Welcome one and all to The Guardian’s 2022 Oscars liveblog. This is it, the moment that a rapidly diminishing number of you have been waiting for. Last year, in the heat of Covid, the Academy lost its darn mind and did the Oscars by making Glenn Close twerk in a train station. This year, however, cooler heads have prevailed. The Oscars this year will take place in the Dolby theatre with a sensible number of guests and some actual hosts. Tonight, Amy Schumer, Wanda Sykes and Regina Hall will become the first hosts the Oscars have had since 2018. It’s an unenviable task: do well and nobody will notice, do badly and you’ll be massacred online. So well done to them for not fleeing for the hills as soon as the offer came in. Now, the films. Just a few weeks ago it looked as if The Power of the Dog – Jane Campion’s long, sparse, gay cowboy drama – had everything sewn up already. But now the tables are starting to turn. Coda, a tiny deaf drama that ended up on Apple TV+, has started to gain momentum. Troy Kotsur is already all but guaranteed to win best supporting actor tonight, and the film may be rewarded in other categories too. Similarly, Jessica Chastain’s once lock-tight grip on the best actress category, thanks to her prosthetic makeover in The Eyes of Tammy Faye, appears to have loosened, and she has lost ground to Penelope Cruz’s turn in Parallel Mothers. Have you seen any of these films? Do you care? Either way, I’m going to be here for the next six or seven hours and I could urgently use your company. First, provided I can find my TV remote, I’ll be following all the red carpet action on E! (which, if nothing else, will be a test to see all the different ways I can reheat the phrase “She is wearing a dress”). Then, in a couple of hours, the show itself will begin and I will be there for every brutal beat of it. May god have mercy on our souls.