Like most of the nominees' names, it was an Oscars to forget.

So if it’s an honor just to be nominated, why did it feel like Sunday night’s overlong Academy Awards was an effort to boost the morale of those who would be going home empty-handed?

Don’t get me wrong. I applaud the producers of the telecast for celebrating the people whose best wasn’t good enough to put them backstage at the Kodak Theatre, gushing their leftover thank-yous into ABC’s webcam.

From the opening reel — a 4-minute quick-cut masterpiece from documentary filmmaker Errol Morris, who interviewed all 130 nominees — to the lovely tribute for composer and five-time Oscar loser Ennio Morricone, there were many worthy tributes to the worthies assembled there.

And yet, as one surprise winner after another was announced, we were reminded once again that the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat are as tied together as Bogie and Bergman. Winners like Alan Arkin and Jennifer Hudson fought back the rush of emotions that they had obviously locked up in cold storage. Those they left in the seats, meanwhile, personified the line that got such laughs for Jerry Seinfeld midway through the evening.

“If,” Seinfeld said, “by some chance it should turn out you are not the best, we all want to see the look on your face when you get the news.”

His two bits — the other was a classic Seinfeldian rant against movie theaters that ask patrons to pick up their trash — were more memorable than anything said or done by the show’s putative lead comedian, host Ellen DeGeneres. A perfect choice to host the Emmy Awards, DeGeneres, whose cinema credits rival that of last year’s host, Jon Stewart, had trouble filling the world’s biggest stage. It was as though she had adapted too well to the small set of her popular daytime talk show.

“Peter O’Toole — eight nominations, right?” DeGeneres said, calling out to the beloved (if Oscar-unlucky) actor in his seat. “Well, you know what they say, third time’s the charm.”

Ha.

As they did last year, the Oscarcast producers made the right call by putting their strongest piece at the top of the broadcast. Morris was a fine choice, partly because his own Oscar was long overdue, held up by the academy’s documentary old guard, partly because his unparalleled editing skills and weirdly intimate close-ups hammered the night’s double message home: A lot of great people have been nominated, and they’re well aware that they’re probably not going to win.

Another nice touch was hearing the voice-over announcers share pieces of gossip instead of the usual “This is So-and-So’s first Oscar.” Don LeFontaine, the announcer best known for his “In a world...” movie trailers and Geico ads, informed viewers that Arkin, then walking up the steps to claim his trophy, almost didn’t get the part in “Little Miss Sunshine” because the producers thought he might be “too virile.”

However, as so often happens on the Oscars, the big things that annoyed tended to overwhelm the little things that worked. The overall look of the show has improved noticeably since it moved to the Kodak Theatre a few years back and began airing in high definition. This year, the telecast used a smart vertical-blinds effect for transition and seemed to make better use of the various angles afforded by cameras positioned throughout the theater.

Unfortunately, the image that will stick in the mind are of those interpretive dancers performing behind a white screen, in silhouette, in shadow plays representing the year’s major films. Their first appearance was charming, like something you might see on an educational children’s show. But it got old fast. Fortunately, DeGeneres and her writers had the sense to stage a parody, using the big-budget bomb “Snakes on a Plane” as their foil.

That left only one candidate for biggest annoyance of the night: The puzzling decision to save almost all of the high-profile awards until the last hour of the telecast. More than two hours had elapsed before a best supporting actress was crowned. Had not Hollywood journalist Nikki Finke caused a minor ruckus over the weekend by revealing the producers’ original plans, Arkin might not have gotten his trophy before my deadline.

Meanwhile, for those who have felt cheated in recent years because of the directors’ insistence on keeping the acceptance speeches under three minutes, ABC set up a “thank-you cam” backstage, with the video being streamed on the Internet. A great idea, if about five years overdue, it nonetheless was unsatisfying to have to wait an hour or more for videos to post (and some winners skipped the thank-you cam altogether). A live webcam would have been more interesting. At any rate, the knowledge that an audience of thousands awaits offstage probably won’t entice anyone to cut short the acceptance speech.

There wasn’t a comedy number until after the first break, but it was worth waiting for, as Jack Black, John C. Reilly and Will Ferrell paid musical tribute to comedians who cross over and win Oscars for dramatic roles. At the end of their rousing number, the three amigos vowed in unison that someday, “The Oscar and Helen Mirren will be coming home with me!”

And really, isn’t that why it’s merely an honor to be nominated?