Dada Day in Denver

It appears that, after two and a half decades into the 21st century, Father's Day is making a comeback, a reboot, as the kids say these days. This lower-case holiday has been kicked about and shoved to the side in recent times, probably due to the revolving door of gender roles and, more likely, the sad fact that in order to build something up, we have to tear something down. Papa's Day will never reach the exalted status that Mothers have, so it currently sits further down the popularity chart placed above Arbor Day, but trailing Earth Day thanks to an aggressive marketing campaign by the Green Party.

This info about the much maligned Dia del Padre isn't new by any means. Certainly Chris Rock moaned and groaned about it about 25 years ago one of his iconic stand-up specials.  Another quarter century before that, Chuck Jones turned out a brilliant Warner Brothers cartoon on the subject entitled A Bear for Punishment. Sure, it celebrated Father, but at a price, a harbinger of things to come perhaps? 

Technically, I'm not a father. I've never sired any children...to my knowledge, if I wanted to drop the spurious playa card in order to impress nobody. I do hold the position of stepfather, though I've never been called upon to wield any parental duties per se especially since my wife's children were full grown and didn't have to put up with any clumsy platitudes from this guy right here. I love these guys to Jupiter and back and they have always accepted me as more that guy their mom hangs with. But the father part of the step process sometimes felt like a participation trophy, which has everything to do with me and not them.

But thanks to this trio of amazing human beings and great timing on my part, I reached the next level, earning me the privilege to be the Mack Daddy of them all-Grandpa, damn it. While I've always had age issues due to my latent immaturity/insecurity, I've never had any qualms being a grandparent and I cherish this honor with my very being. In fact, it has brought me closer to my stepson and daughters in the process and finally allowed me to be not only feel, but to actually become a part of this swell bunch of people that I call my family and not the outsider I used to consider myself to be. So when Father's Day rolls around and I get accolades from the fam over the years, this truly closes that gap for me.

This year, we happen to be to find ourselves in Denver once again visiting Colorado contingent of the clan. My youngest granddaughter is inexplicably turning 5 years old while, as a bonus feature, Father's Day is occurring as I write. The fact that I am spending part of this day away from them and scribbling says a lot, doesn't it? My wife, the matriarch of this bunch and I are always treated like royalty when we visit and this time is certainly no exception-eating, drinking and celebrating like the bleeding Windsors. It's not so much that they spoil us rotten but overcome us with the love that accompanies it all. I, as Granddad/Grandpa/Grandfather/Zeydah/Ol' Man River have finally accepted that this day is not for pater familias only. My hard candy shell finally cracked and the milk chocolate of my heart continues to melt for those who have embraced me into their bosom (Did I just hear an ew?) This year, along with various greetings far and wide, I was fortunate enough to actually celebrate the day along with my SIL (son-in-law for the acronym challenged) and this rare occasion instantly became a deposit into the savings account of my memory bank with a high interest rate. I can return to this day in times of woe to help dig me out of whatever mess I've got myself into, mental or otherwise so I can see the light of day that this family, this cavalcade of characters of the past, present and future have shown me time and time again and I can honestly say:

Thank you

I love you

and Happy Father's Day to me.

Oscar Gets Bitch-Slapped

Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, the whole world seems to be STILL talking about the 94th Academy Awards presentation one week later, naturally for all the wrong reasons. Oh, you think it had something to do with the prestigious winners of said gold statuettes? In another month, you will be hard pressed to tell anyone off the top of your head who won what and for what picture. (CODA won Best Picture, by the by. I had to look it up.) The same goes for the show itself, a return to the glitz, glamour, chintz, cheese and bombastic bloat in those pre-Pandemic days of yore, complete with forgettable hosts, insipid presenter patter and numerous excuses for useless memes, the only reason to watch at all. However there was one thing about that fateful night in March that will stand out in your mind, probably forever if happen to give any kind of shit at all.

Naturally, I'm talking about THE INCIDENT. 

The Academy Awards should get down on their hands and knees to kiss the feet of Will Smith, the Slap Happy Daddy himself, for making the Oscars, which had been precariously perched on the precipice of extinction, relevant again. Whew! That was a close one! All he had to do was lay the smackdown on Chris Rock on live television and the world is the Fresh Prince's oyster. Unfortunately, he seems to be allergic to shellfish.

There's really nothing I can say about THE INCIDENT to add to the conversation. It was an insipid moment in time, captured for all the world to see and re-play again and again until the next insipid moment in time which is probably happening at this very moment. After all, the Grammys are on tonight. As Homer Simpson once pointed out, "Rock stars. Is there anything they don't know?" Right now, somebody could be kicking ass and taking names during the presentation of the New Artist of the Year. Don't forget, Kanye's still out there somewhere. You think he's going to be upstaged by Big Willy Style? Update: Nothing happened except Ukraine prez Zelenskyy's appearance, skunking the Oscars. Maybe he hated DON'T LOOK UP as well.

What occurred last week goes down as what they refer to as an Oscar Moment, just not one of those they believe touches the hearts and souls of we peons in the viewing audience, bored to horrors as we are, desperately waiting for something, ANYTHING of note to happen. In this day and age of epic fails and embarrassments that live eternally on YouTube, cream no longer rises to the top, especially when the world has become such a sewer. Whatever twits your Tweets, folks. 

To be frank (or Dean or Sammy, I don't care), THE INCIDENT and all of its ramifications has encapsulates the displeasure I find in not only the whole process of the Academy Awards themselves, but the entertainment industry as a whole (or hole, as the case may be). The abundance of such programs have resulted in a malaise that can only overcome by whatever will be worthy enough to trend on Tik Tok, perfect for a society with non-existent attention spans. But the sheer reverence of this particular show, the equivalent of the Super Bowl (though not ratings-wise), has been grandfathered in over time and while it has tried to maintain its stature, it's been on a day pass from the Motion Picture Retirement Home for ages now. Home audiences have been dwindling to a trickle in recent times, not giving so much as a fig for one reason or another. The politicization of the ceremony has contributed to this reduction, whether they want to admit it or not. And if they do, it don't matter, cuz we have opinions and this is a world stage, dadgum it and we will be heard, even if there's no one there to listen. The rarefied air in the Hollywood bubble has become not only more apparent more recently as they lord their fame and fortunes over the huddled masses, especially in these settings, that we can assume that yes, they do know better because they are better. And of course, now matter how fucked up work conditions, harassment and inequality has been prevalent since the dawn of movie time, they will make damn sure they will fix it and make it better, no matter what and if they can, so can the world. But please, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain because he's got his pants down, chasing another starlet around the casting couch that we were told never existed.

But it's all fodder for a Red Table Talk, isn't it? The phoniness of Will, Jade Pinkett and their progeny are imperfect examples of the deterioration of what Hollywood stands for now. The phoniness, which has always existed, is more transparent than ever and this glass house of theirs is a microcosm of this current universe, much like a snow globe filled with asbestos flakes. And there they sat in lounge chairs before the main stage along with the rest of the "major" nominees while the rest of the poor slobs were relegated to the cheap seats, especially those not allowed to accept their awards on live TV. But then Will pops Chris Rock across the chops and is allowed to collect his big trophy, weeping throughout like the damaged cuckold he is in a feeble attempt of being contrite, blaming his actions on the Devil himself, making this embarrassing act of his true legacy. 

What I've come to realize in recent Oscarcasts is that while I still love the movies, I have come to despise Hollywood in its recent incarnation. It reminds of what some used to believe about Communism, how the true idea was ideal but, over time, the corrupted version is what we're left with. But Hollywood was actually never "true". It's always been a facade, much like magic, illusions created with smoke, mirrors and misdirection. Even if you realize that early on, you willingly give in to that conceit because they were creating dreams and fantasies that took us out of ourselves in order to cope with reality. Even though they love living in their own personal Olympus, the Hollywood gods have felt the need to feel human again or at their perception of what it's like to be a person in this world. You know the saying. "They're just like us." But they're not. The more they try to be, the worse they get. Tinseltown has become a rusted version of itself and that is the sad reality, theirs and ours.  

So this is the last Oscar blog. I know, I know. The world will be worse off without my pointed observations, razor-sharp opinions and juicy bon mots. 

Now ain't that a slap in the face?

Cue the play-off music.

For previous blogs from years past, please go to: AND THE OSCARS GO TO...

Oscar de la Venta

With a head full of death snot and a resonating cough sounding like a barking seal at Fisherman's Wharf, it's time for Hollywood's most glamorous  night...the Academy Awards! Yeah, this is first Oscarcast I can recall when I was sicker than sick can be. This goddamn bug has kicked my ass every which way but loose. Maybe it's the plague. If so, I'm the outbreak monkey.

This illness is yet another obstacle from allowing me to enjoy what I used consider my Super Bowl experience. Not being a football fan, I gravitated in this direction and would block out my schedule to accommodate this celebration of, my greatest passion, cinema. In years past, I viewed it through rose colored goggles and became one of the ceremony's chief apologists. But as I get older, the glitz and glamour have lost their luster, so the Oscar telecast has became just another reason to to spend four hours on the goddamn couch. We used to party on with a theme meal with special appetizers and perfectly potent potables like my take on a Bloody Mary. This year, with no appetite to speak of, I sat in front of the screen sipping on a juice box leftover from when my four year granddaughter visited last summer.

I actually entered this year's viewing event with some honest to goodness anticipation. Oh, not because of the nominees but thanks to the media hype concerning Chris Rock taking on the Hollywood elite and #OcarsSoWhite controversy. Hey, whatever kick starts my interest. I've addressed my feelings about this in a previous post (#BlackNomineesMatter) so I won't backtrack on that, only to say that Chris Rock and I had similar observations. However, Chris is a world class comedian whose commentaries on life and its morays has elevated him to the upper echelon of show business while I am a flu-ridden maroon with a blog.

It's been over ten years since Rock hosted the awards and his announcement as host for the year's show took me aback, considering his poor reception last time. He hasn't changed his style at all, but back then he dared poke the ribs of the H'wood community and was taken to task for it onstage. He made fun of Jude Law being in every movie at that time (which he was) and Sean Penn, before presenting the Best Actress award, scolded him oh so very sanctimoniously.

So how he going to be received this year? Why, with open arms of course. There's nothing that a while Liberal collective likes more than to be called out for perceived racism. They laughed uproariously at their own foibles and short-sightedness. "Oh, it so funny because it's TRUE!" Rock's monologue skewed the issue up one side and down the other, scoring high and often. And those fools just sat there and took it, even in potentially insensitive moments regarding lynching and Rhianna's panties. It was speculated which audience he was going to play to and somehow he managed to do both masterfully.

Continuing on this same theme throughout the show had more mixed results. The segment filmed in Compton was decent enough, though I'm curious why he didn't ask those cinema-goers if they had seen MAD MAX? And the Stacey Dash segment, while fortunately brief, was confusing if no one understood the context. Explaining the joke never makes it better. Or funny. The best was the deleted scenes from Oscar films with Tracey Morgan stealing the bit as THE DANISH GIRL.

Otherwise the show was pleasant enough. The Best Song performances were a snoozer (Sam Smith even acknowledged his mediocre effort) save for Lady Gaga's stirring rendition of "Til It Happens to You" surrounded by a stage full of sexual assault survivors. Louis CK killed with his monologue about Best Documentary Short nominees. And fortunately, no embarrassingly award presenters as is usually the case, save for the positively lame animated segments with the Minions and Toy Story characters.

The awards were agreeable as well, though it's hard to judge when one has not seen the nominees save for a few. (It never mattered when I was a kid. I don't why it does now.) FURY ROAD, which I did see, picked a half dozen well deserved statues in editing, production design and costuming, among others. I though George Miller might have a shot a director award which, alas, was not the case. Mark Rylance's Best Supporting was a surprise, though I admit that I sentimentally pulled for a Stallone win. I also would have liked to have seen Tom Hanks to be nominated for BRIDGE OF SPIES as well for the old fashioned gravitas he gave to that film. Ennio Morricone's win made my heart soar like an eagle and I haven't heard one note of his HATEFUL 8 score because he is quite possibly the finest film composer of all time. Most everything else was predictable, save for the grand prize won by SPOTLIGHT the first Catholic Best Picture win since GOING MY WAY.

Though I had blown my nose about three dozen times, hacked up my own phlegm festival about half that amount, by show's end, I realized that I had basked in Oscar's golden glow one more time and convinced I will do so again until I say goodbye, cruel world. This weekend, I felt like I had. Hey, looks like I had a Oscar celebration after all. I hosted my very own pity party.

#BlackNomineesMatter

Oh, the Great Divide grows wider and wider. But it' so nice to have absurdity on both sides of the fence. 2015 grew tiresome with the Republican candidate clown car driven by the Donald (now with Sarah Palin riding shotgun). But even with all their buffonery, the Right can take a break and give the horselaugh to the Left for a change.

The Hollywood Elite (as Conservatives love to call LA show biz) have found themselves in a heap o' trouble once the Oscar noms were announced and not one actor of color has appeared on the ballot...AGAIN. The names Will Smith, Indris Elba, Michael B. Jordan (the actor, not the baller, hence the B, damn your cracker eyes) were kicked around, but did not make the cut. STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON, one of the best reviewed films of last year was MIA as well  with the exception of a screenplay nod. But them's the facts, Jack. So does this garner a call to arms?

Spike Lee and Jada Pinkett Smith think so, calling for a boycott of this white devil party. The Rev Sharpton wholeheartedly concurs.With these three leading the charge, what could possibly go wrong? First off, Spike's new film CHI-RAQ has received the only decent reviews of his work in a decade, so he was probably looking for a nom. (Wouldn't it have been a hoot if John Cusack was only actor singled out from his cast?) So, Mr. Lee wouldn't be at the ceremonies anyway. To say he's boycotting the Oscars is therefore redundant. He's replaying a scene from DO THE RIGHT THING. "Hey, Sal, howcum they ain't no brothers on the wall?" I would say Jada's miffed because she had her gown all picked out when she would have been on the arm of her shoo-in Best Actor husband Will from the disappointing CONCUSSION. But he's out of the running. Now He's not going either. Neither am I, Will. You know why? Because I wasn't nominated either. As for the Rev Sharpton? Who gives a shit? Shut up, Al. By the way, Tawana Brawley want to know why you don't return her calls.

White Hollywood Liberals are tripping over themselves to jump onto this bandwagon. That is, those that don't have a dog in this year's fight. Ain't that right, George Clooney? Ol' Lonesome George is telling us that Hollywood is moving in the wrong direction. "We did it better ten years ago," he said. What that when you directed GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD LUCK with how many actors of color? Was it LEATHERHEADS? THE IDES OF MARCH? MONUMENTS MEN? Well, perhaps you can lead the way, Cloon...or don't you know another brother you can work with besides Don Cheadle? Oh wait, you're directing a new movie this year with...Matt Damon, Julianne Moore and Josh Brolin. Thanks for stopping by, George. Next time, practice what you preach. NOT YOU, AL!

These are the Oscars, people. It's all a game. Is all this fire and brimstone for the Hollywood's Annual Circle Jerk pointing to an even bigger problem? Sure it is, but in the most glad-handed way possible. All this posturing over the lack of diversity in an awards show cheapens the message and trivializes it into non-existence. Yeah, there's a problem in this damn country. The last few years have proven that if anything, we've regressed. Damn right the black community is pissed and everything becomes a hot button issue. But honestly, folks, this is some misguided bullshit. Should CREED or STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON been nominated? Don't know, but I was as surprised as the next person (not you, Al) by their exclusion. The argument that CREED is a sequel and therefore not usually on the ballot goes out the window with MAD MAX: FURY ROAD sitting pretty. But Idris Elba would not have been nominated for BEASTS OF NO NATION because the Academy isn't ready to honor Netflix with anything but scorn. (Yes, honor with scorn. Move along.) Where all the outrage for actresses of color? Directors? Writers? Film composers? If you're going to be pissed, then make it an all-inclusive piss.

How else to fix this?  There's talk of asking Chris Rock to step down as host. Quittin' ain't representin', now is it?  The Academy is also considering raising the number of nominations.That way, SIX white actors will be nominated instead of five. Oh, then some sort of Affirmative Action should be put in place? How about if everybody gets a participation trophy? I'm sure there are going to be concessions over the next couple of years, just like before. A couple of nominations here, a couple of awards there. These are called tokens, a label that should be avoided. How about the industry itself? Real change won't happen until the studios themselves become truly diversified, especially at the top. I say you shoot for the stars, people. Go for Disney. It's time to take make it a truly Wonderful World of Color.

I'm going to get a head start on next year with an early nomination bid-a two-fer, in fact. Kevin Hart and Ice Cube, double Best Actor nominees for the current number one movie in America, RIDE ALONG 2. Unfortunately, neither will win. As what always happens when two actors are nominated in the same category, they'll spit the vote. Sorry. And the winner is...Michael Fassbender for anything he's in this year, simply because he's overdue.

The real beauty of all this is not only is the Left caught with their tits in a PC wringer, but the Right is not even paying attention. This is an absolutely golden opportunity for them to mock and point out to the rest of the country how out of touch Hollywood is with mainstream America, one of their favorite topics. They are in the freaking catbird seat for this boondoggle. But they're not smart enough to latch unto it or else they've all been struck dumb by the unbelievable shrieking of Palin's voice. (Dear God, I though the smoke alarm had gone off when she endorsed Trump.) Don't expect President Bam or Hillary to mention this either, not while Hollywood checkbooks are out.

The Great Divide grows wider and wider. Welcome to the abyss.

By the way, I'm not on Twitter, so feel free to use #BlackNomineesMatter.

Not you, Al.