The world used to love Daniel Radcliffe.  For he was Harry Potter. From when he was just a sperm to when he sprouted his first pube Radcliffe made a spectacular living from swanning about shouting dodgy Latin while pointing a twig at things.  And we gobbled it up like the suckers we are.

But no more!

The world has got together and decided to take a giant steaming dump of rejection on Radcliffe’s snowy white shag-pile carpet of self worth.  WE DON’T LOVE YOU ANY MORE MR WIZARD!

Radcliffe’s latest post-Potter attempt at earning our esteem and the attentions of some of the dodgiest erotic literature ever to grace the Internet is The Woman In Black.  Which American box office figures have announced is not quite as good as some film called Chronicle, which is some sort of home movie made by three teenage boys who call each other ‘dude’ a lot.

Chronicle, which may or may not include teenagers with special abilities beyond the grasp of the rest of the muggle population or whatever, has soundly beaten The Woman in Black to the tune of $1 million dollars in both films’ opening weekend.  Which at current cinema ticket prices means that four more people went to a film that can levitate cars but not keep the camera level for more than one dramatic pause.

Which seems like a real shame, because Radcliffe looks very pale and skinny in the images we’ve seen of The Woman in Black.  We’ve not really read much about the film but looking at the pictures we’d guess Radcliffe is playing a hepatitis riddled Victorian opium addict and judging by his facial expressions… sorry, expression the young opium addict is required to complete complicated mathematical equations which are being held up on cards just to the left of the camera.  All while standing on a misty, cold moor in some geographically ambiguous part of Olde England.

A million dollars is a lot of rejection after you’ve sunk yourself into a role like that.  Opium isn’t cheap these days and can anyone really do quadratic equations while ankle deep in mud and horse shit?  When you are Harry Potter, you are the original face of teen-angst-meets-supernatural-powers-meets-a-fight-against-the-inherent-evil-of-the-human-condition.  That’s got to sting the ego.

But it could be worse, at least Radcliffe is still the star of his own films.  Emma ‘Hermione’ Watson is named on the posters for My Week With Marilyn but nobody seems to know if she’s been allowed to do any acting.  Rupert ‘The Ginger One’ Grint’s biggest role so far is still Thunderpants.

So Daniel, even if there’s shit on the carpet, you’re still the most famous of your friends.  And no, we don’t have any spare change, you’ll only spend it on drugs.

Okay, okay… so that isn't quite accurate.

The 80th Annual Academy Awards was in fact watched by 32 million Americans. Now, anyone who works in the rating business will tell you that 32 million people are not to be sniffed at. Hell, that's almost as many people as tuned in that time hecklerspray appeared on Blind Date (you know, the episode in which we took that midget to Legoland and snared her growth-deficient heart).

32 million viewers for the Oscars, though? That's nothing. That's pathetic. That's so darn depressing that Old Mr Statue is crying golden tears and getting ready to wrap a noose made of film reel around his neck. All with a soundtrack by John Williams, of course.

Sunday night's ceremony actually saw the lowest viewing figures for the Oscars since records began. The previous lowpoint was in 2003, when Steve Martin presented and Chicago won Best Picture – an evening so unremittingly mediocre that scientists across the world were obtaining scale-busting readings on their Tediumoters™.

What reason is being given for this disastrous performance? The fact that no-one actually went to see any of the nominated films is a prime suspect, and also a telling one. The highest ever viewing figures for the Oscars were recorded in 1998, the year that James Cameron's Titanic swept the board, and 55 million people switched on to watch L.A Confidential lose out to DiCaprio and Co.

All of which factors into hecklerspray's worldview quite well. The worldview being, of course, that people are stupid, and that had the Oscars been bestowing shiny figurines on idiot-fodder like Spider-Man 3 or Scary Movie 17, chances are that ten times the number of gawkers would have slumped before their TV sets, clapping and squealing whenever they showed a clip of that funny Adam Sandler pulling a face like he was doing a poo-poo.

Next year's line-up, then? Expect changes, people. There'll be no Coen Brothers masterpieces or respected French actresses getting those shiny gongs. Instead, we can presumably look forward to a nomination list that includes Extreme DeathRace 2050, Ghosts Of Mars 2, a remake of Cutthroat Island and the Wayan Brothers' latest Give Us Your Money, You Bunch Of Easily-Impressed Illiterate Shitbuckets.

Guest host: Paris Hilton.

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Sluggish Oscars Were Least-Watched Ever – ABC