A couple of weeks ago, I spoke to Bruce Davis, executive director of The Academy Of Motion Picture Arts And Sciences: in simpler terms, as he puts it, he's the man "who makes sure everything goes smoothly with the almost year-round preparations for the Oscars". At the time, I asked him what level of intensity the aforementioned preparations had reached. He laughed and replied "You could say we're finding things to do here."

Well, they might have been busy then, but in the intervening weeks Bruce and his merry band have had to first contend with several thousand ballots going AWOL somewhere in the US postal system; and then the disappearance of a job lot of Oscar statuettes, later discovered hidden in an Los Angeles dumpster.

Davis, who's more used to working behind the scenes, had to face the cameras himself a few times to explain those little hitches. But, hey, the problems did get solved - so presumably he must be doing something right.

But what exactly is it that qualifies someone to organise the Oscars, to cope with the tantrums, the lost ballots and the missing statuettes? Even at the crack of dawn in LA, Davis is a picture of self-possession.

Promoted to his current job in 1989, Davis makes a clear distinction between his role ("I'm in charge of the paid staff") and that of the president of the academy - "the leader of the artists that make up the membership" - whose past incumbents include Bette Davis, Gregory Peck and, more recently, Arthur Hiller and Karl Malden. So, while the president gets to swan about being a glamorous figurehead for the awards and "appointing a producer, getting together a staff of writers, thinking of a host for the show", Davis and his staff are in charge of, well, pretty much everything else.

One major chore overseen as part of this grab-bag of responsibilities is the screening of all the eligible titles to Academy members, and the collection of their votes (or not, as the case may be). Studios keen to get their pictures some Oscar-winning kudos fill the pages of Screen International and Variety with over-the-top advertisements recommending films and stars "for your consideration". Does Davis think people are affected by this uniquely cunning ploy?

"Contrary to what the press sometimes likes to suggest," he chuckles, "do you really think Martin Scorsese is going to look at an ad and say 'Well, this says this guy here is the best director, so I'd better vote for him'? These are people with extremely strong views about what they do, and they take it very seriously." So are people expected to vote for their favourite work in each category, or that which they think constitutes the best "achievement"?

"I think they vote for the job of work", Davis muses. "If you're an art director and you see a marvellous example of work in your field, even if it's not your style, you'd still vote for it." Well, that's the theory.

Meanwhile, the world at large is now all-too-familiar with the kind of mishaps which can befall Mr Oscar before his big night; the question is whether Davis and his team have contingency plans in the case of a hypothetical disaster on Sunday night itself?

"We do a lot of that," he acknowledges, "from fire and flood to presenters who don't show, but that hasn't happened for many years." He also admits that "it's a very paranoia-inducing process. Imagine staging an enormously complicated Broadway show, with very little rehearsal, which goes out live all around the world and closes after one night." Under such conditions, Davis confesses, "I tend not to be very good company. I obsess over time, like: 'We only gave out two awards in half an hour and now we have 18 more and three musical numbers!'"

But Davis's biggest problem on the night - barring a repeat of Marlon Brando's infamous 1972 dispatching of a faux-Native American squaw to pick up his award for The Godfather - must be acceptance speeches over-running (don't cry Gwyneth, it's not just you). What does he do about that?

Ever the diplomat, he refuses to name names, but does remark that "the unspoken rule is this - if you're saying something witty or wise, no one's going to play you off. But if you bring out a list a mile long of people you could just as easily call up on the phone, well that's not entertainment, and it's time to strike up the band!"

Finally, I ask him the only question that really needs answering - who's going to win then?

"Most people assume I know," he coughs, "and it is absolutely true - that I do not. No one in the Academy, not even the president, has any idea of the winners until those envelopes are opened on stage."

But he must have a personal favourite?

"Yes. Yes, I do. And, whatever else I'm going to do, I'm certainly, definitely not going to mention them."

• The Oscars ceremony will be shown live on Monday morning from 1am on Sky Premier, plus live coverage throughout the night on Film Unlimited.