Where do you go when your date is a 13-inch-tall, golden naked man? On Oscar night, anywhere you want.

Decisions, decisions. Which Oscar bash to crash first? Let’s start with the Governors Ball, where Courtney Love and Edward Norton took a spin on the dance floor, and 1,648 other guests — including Billy Crystal, Frances McDormand, and Geoffrey Rush — munched on little gold-dusted edible Oscars and envelope-shaped white chocolate. Vanity Fair‘s dinner party at Mortons was so hot, one of the bread baskets caught on fire. It didn’t bother the revelers: Madonna mingled with Mick Jagger while Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman held court at a backroom table, chatting with Ralph Fiennes, Jim Carrey, and Cuba Gooding Jr. Across the street at the Sony Pictures party, held at Eclipse, Jean-Claude Van Damme made a big entrance wearing a polka-dot jacket and towing an entourage of 12. Meanwhile, Wolfgang Puck’s fete at ObaChine had its share of phonies (”It’s like the independent fake breasts versus the studio fake breasts,” one guest snickered). But anybody who was anybody — or at least the Oscar-hauling English Patient throng — ended the evening at Miramax’s party at the Mondrian. At Hollywood’s new temple of hipdom, some partygoers cheerily smashed champagne glasses and ended up passed out by the pool. Talk about the coast being toast.