oscar review ’08
First, let me vomit enthusiasm all over your respective faces like a demon-possessed Linda Blair (it’s digital/metaphorical; no mess, no priests.) It’s thirty degrees. It appears that we’re headed toward a monstrous high of thirty-one. Congratulations Minneapolisites (or Minneapolisans, Minneapolitans; no clue). If you ignore the dense fog and forecast of flurries, we’re looking at the first signs of spring. Rejoice!
Speaking of forecasts (dear W.C.C.O., if you need segues injected into the embalmed carcass of your banter, do email; I’m full of these things), I made some oscar predictions a couple weeks ago. As many of you (because you couldn’t even watch sportscenter without hearing about it) know, the 80th Oscars were last night. Award shows are petty, superficial and self-congratulatory. I can only blame the lack of substance for the academy being wrong on so many occasions. (The academy determines the winners, so they can’t be wrong, you say? We obviously haven’t met). Here’s a review of my glorious triumphs in predictive greatness and a few of the academy’s most telling failures. (Sidenote: Stewart, with only two weeks of preparation, put on quite the show. Kudos.)
Cinematography:
Blood was a beautiful movie. Diving Bell was more so. Creating the perspective of a bed-ridden hospital patient with one eye, I guess, wasn’t as difficult as shooting gorgeous scenery and intense action. John Wayne could have been the cinematographer for Blood and he had the artistic vision (and social intellect) of an almost-dead ground squirrel. Is this just a category to congratulate the runner-up in best director? Because then I get it.
Adapted Screen Play:
I had profound confidence in this pick, but the academy was, again, wrong. Cormac’s book read like a screen play, complete with voice-overs. From what I can tell, the brothers read the book, added scene details in the margins, redacted the three boring parts and part of the ending and had some low-paid intern type it up. Congratulations, I guess. Sure, they translated the tone almost perfectly and made a sweet movie, but that’s more visual/aural than what was on the page to start.
Original Screen Play:
Diablo, congratulations. You are all that is hip and awesome and badass, so I know you’re reading this. I’m just glad someone finally recognized your work. To think you wrote this in a Starbucks (nice choice in coffee, they have the best beans and really pay attention to flavor) while contemplating where your career was headed. So valiant. If only people would have taken the time before this was released, while it was released and after the audience weighed in to talk about you and your heroic rise from voluntarily working the pole to holding a golden phallus. I can only hope people will finally take notice and start writing feature stories about your brilliance. Oh, and great dress. (Okay maybe she stopped reading. Savages was better, but I guess teen pregnancy is still easier to award than senility. Boo, responsible fucking and planned parenthood.)
Directing:
Here, my genius was finally recognized by the jerk-offs and their score cards. The Coen brothers were justly rewarded and provided entertaining speeches to boot. I eagerly await Burn After Reading.
Supporting Actress:
Wow. The academy was way off. Tilda, good work and all, but still. Deer-in-the-headlights looks and profuse sweating get awards, apparently (her emotional range was terrified to anxious). I mean, it was a solid performance in a good movie, but Saoirse did the same thing (except for the “good movie” part). Amy had a stand-out role that made a good movie better. Drunks don’t get the recognition they should.
Supporting Actor:
Javier had his acceptance speech rehearsed and ready two months ago. It was a good speech, timed well and had a poignant moment that I would appreciate more if I understood Spanish (he thanked his mom, grandparents, the comedians of Spain and dedicated the award to all of them). He was clear and concise while creating an impressively touching moment. Why am I critiquing his acceptance speech? Because everyone and their Amish cousin knew he’d win it.
Actress:
You’ve all read my predictions (because you read these posts like G.W. Bush reads the bible [his copy had all the compassion parts redacted by Cheney]), so you know that I was pretty unsure on this one. I really had no idea, after watching four of the movies, who would come away with this statue. I may have leaned a bit toward Julie, but it was only because the entire industry already had. I don’t remember for sure, but I think I said Marion should win it because, I don’t know… she’s hotter? Fine. I never even considered Marion. Is that what you wanted to hear? Cripes. You didn’t see it coming either!
Actor:
So, well… um. Duh? I have no idea what he was talking about during his speech, but I’m sure it had something to with being appreciative and it was damn poetic, or something. Until he wins that 50th award, I can’t say for sure that he’s a great actor, but he’s done well. Congratulations D.D.-L., see you in a few years.
Picture:
“They probably will.” That’s what I said about No Country even when I predicted Blood would take the top prize last night. I liked them both.
All in all, the show was entertaining, but it took seven hours and forty-three minutes. I had to sit through three terrible musical performances (read: fuck Enchanted), and drawn out montages. The Best Picture sequence was long, but justified. The rest, not so much.
Ah well. The almost-above-freezing temperatures and gray skies allude to spring. Movie season is at its end and now the summer looms. Bring on the deluge of entertaining drivel. Screw art, the studios gots to get paid. (Step Up 2: the Streets? Really?? Studios to audience: “Thanks for your money; we hate you.”)
Note: there’s a meeting in the back room where I’m, unfortunately, overhearing Oscar commentary. I hate myself a little. I almost regret wasting your time with my preposterous commentary just now. Almost.