With Oscar front-runners like Helen Mirren, Forrest Whitaker, Eddie Murphy, and Jennifer Hudson scooping up virtually every tacky statue on the awards circuit to this point, the NY Times laments that their inevitable Academy Awards acceptance speeches will probably be nothing but predictable, slightly refined versions of the ones they've already inflicted upon us multiple times. While the Times credits Mirren with professionally executing the classy sentiments honed on various auditorium stages and talk show couches, they seem to dread more of the same on Oscar night:

Of course the British are often eloquent. While sweeping up awards for playing Elizabeth II in "The Queen," Ms. Mirren told the Golden Globes audience: "I honestly think this award belongs to her. I think you fell in love with her."

She echoed that at the SAG awards (and repeated what she has said on talk shows) but pulled off the speech beautifully by adding a dash of wit. "When I did my costume fittings for 'The Queen,' I walked in and I saw those sensible shoes and those tweed skirts laid out in a row and I cried; I thought, I can't play anyone who chooses to wear those clothes," she said. But, she went on, "I learned to love the person who chooses to wear those clothes, because I learned to love a person without vanity," but who has a great sense of discipline, duty and courage. She grasped what should be obvious. The trick to an acceptance is to cloak personal thanks — because we in the audience truly do not care about the spouses and agents — in an entertaining package.

While we won't be surprised if Mirren dedicates a portion of victory speech to thanking the real-life monarch who inspired her, we're holding out hope that after she runs through the obligatory list of agents and family members she needs to mention, she'll fulfill her promise of giving herself over to the Kodak Theatre-shaking big O she's been eagerly anticipating, forcing the show's frantic producers to try and drown out her moans of celebratory ecstasy with the swelling strings and frenzied trumpet blasts of the orchestra.