Everything Oscar All at Once

For better and not for worse for a change, the 95th annual Academy Award presentation is behind us.

The Academy and probably the industry itself is touting that this is this year is a return to form which is fairly accurate. It resembled a ceremony from the pre-Covid era which made it one of the better productions of the last 5 years. Virtually drama free with lots of good feels for a change combined to make a better than average show or more accurately an average show which is better than it has been to be sure. Ratings were up so the Oscars live to fight another day before it too goes to streaming in a few years.

There were some clunkers to be sure. The lame-ass Cocaine Bear bit, for example, celebrating a modestly successful flash in the pan and a guarantee that fucking Elizabeth Banks isn't going away anytime soon. But the worst had to be the egregious promo for the live-action remake of The Little Mermaid that was shamelessly passed off on the live broadcast. Disney owns ABC which broadcasts the Oscars. Hence, Disney pimps away without an ounce of integrity. Hope they paid for that ad because otherwise, foul ball. 

But mostly, the show moved along quite well without the political speechifying that has drug down the proceedings as of late, not to mention whatever pass for comedy in the last decade. Lack of witty banter was displaced by sad ass fashion choices. (Really, Florence Pugh?) Jimmy Kimmel turned out to be in innocuous house once again making him pretty much safe for the masses and Hollywood in general. who can take a gentle ribbing, but the truth hurts these thin-skinned celebs, that's for sure. 

The lack of what passes for controversy this time around served to benefit the proceedings, no matter what you read on social media, though the rallying cries still echo. The call of "Oscars So White" rang hollow in 2023 mainly because it's already a tiresome cliche' to this Hollywood elite. No women directors again? C'mon, folks. Women Talking, directed by Sarah Polley, should have been a shoo-in at the very least. At least she got a writing trophy out of the deal. And the supposed Angela Basset snub? They still ain't tossing big awards out to the MCU no matter how much money they're still pulling in. As far as losing gracefully, so what? She bought into the hype, believing she was a lock. Didn't happen. Hey, at least she didn't walk out like Eddie Murphy did when he lost for Dreamgirls. These supposed outrages are all so typical of what flotsam and jetsam floats on the waves of the Internet, though I think many of them are perpetuated and drug out by publicists to keep the Oscar dialogue going long after the broadcast in a too desperate attempt to remain relevant as the rest of the world is on to the next pile of nonsensical bullshit with a sweep of their phones,

What was telling about this year's Academy Awards was the story of redemption all around. All four winners in the acting category or either comeback stories or validations of one sort or another. Brendan Fraser and Ke Huy Quan both had resurgences after long droughts in their careers. Jamie Lee Curtis proved she belonged at the table after years of peaking below the surface of stardom. And of course Michelle Yeoh made everybody stand up and listen to the fact that age doesn't matter especially for a woman in Hollywood. You'd better listen to her too or she'll kick your bleedin' ass. The Oscars itself had to redeem itself as well after last year's fiasco not to mention the doldrums it's been under for the past decade. The Everything Everywhere All at Once sweep brought a slew of fresh faces to the foray, all of them wanting to be there and to belong to this community that wouldn't have welcomed them a few years back. Their enthusiastic and genuinely emotional wins were infectious and ruled the night.

I'm frankly pleased that the Big Show (not the wrestler) was as decent as it was since this is my Oscars swan song on this format. (Okay, don't get all weepy on me.) After the last few years, these post-game wrap-ups of mine have felt more and more obligatory rather than anything heartfelt because frankly, my dear, my heart ain't in it no mo'. This year, I approached the Oscars with an near-sense of dread and geared up for another 3 and 1/2 hour hate watch. How insipid is that? My lifelong passion for all things film related have turned me into this grumpy old asshole who picks apart the proceedings like a scavenger bird launching into a corpse buffet. So this is it. I mean it this time. Honest. Even though I stated in last year's post featuring Slap Happy Pappy Will Smith's inglorious day in the Oscar sun was to be my own not so grand finale, this was meant to be a postmortem more than anything else.  So I'm packing my troubles in my old kit bag and backing away from the keyboard from what used to be my favorite time of year. It's rather similar to when I quit smoking. I swore I would give up cigarettes when they stopped tasting so damn good and I did. Same thing here. It's not like I'll stop watching. I just stopped caring.  Looking behind the curtain is a bittersweet proposition. That the 95th Oscars went out on a high (well, higher than usual) note takes a lot of the sting away for me and that is enough.

So Booyah for Hollywood once again. For me though, this is my last Booyah. They're playing me off.

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 in Nomadland

The Oscars are over. Literally.

The scaled and stripped down presentation of the 93rd annual Academy Awards presentation exposed more to the world than they ever meant to, namely, the end isn't just near, it's here.

In recent years, the Oscarcast has become less and less viable and increasingly irrelevant. Naturally, that's stating the obvious since, in the grand scheme of things, it's just a stupid awards show. But the power of Hollywood magic, transforming this ceremony to the world into a spectacle loaded to the tits with baubles and bangles and beads, making the Academy Awards ceremony itself into the destination event that it has become for nearly a century.

The 2020 Oscar extravaganza was the last big event before everything closed down. Since then, the Motion Picture Academy had declared that the show must go on. Why deprive the rest of the world the ability of them to prove how wonderful they all are? Other awards shows tried to utilize Zoom technology and came up short as the Golden Globe debacle proved. The Screen Actors Guild broadcast basically just handed out their prizes like Oprah handing out cars. "You get a SAG! And YOU get a SAG!" So what about the Big Show, the Super Bowl/World Cup/Wrestlemania of Entertainment itself, huh? Time to think outside the box (or box office, as it were). 

Due to Covid restrictions, the audience would be considerably smaller with only the nominees attending. The Kodak Theater, the regular venue for the Oscars would be out of the question since the auditorium would appear too empty on camera. It might have given a boatload of seat fillers some necessary employment though. They chose Union Station in Los Angeles, a beautiful classic structure to be sure. Unfortunately, they neglected the thousands of commuters who use that very hub. Once again the 2% screwed over the 98. Hollywood cares.

The Academy went to critical darling Stephen Soderbergh to produce the show (with two others) and his concept  was to film the ceremony like a movie. Interesting idea if he could pull it off. The opening of the show had actual promise with Regina King in a tracking shot entering the building holding an Oscar and stepping onto stage. Upon arrival, however, she tripped. It wasn't her fault certainly. Unfortunately that's set the tone for the rest of the show. The whole enterprise was basically one big stumble. (Exactly what time was rehearsal anyway?) In effect, it became another Stephen Soderbergh movie that no one wanted to see. 

There was a shake-up in the order of nominations, no big deal really until the very end. But the lack of clips, songs and any sense of film history went by the wayside. Someone suggested, "Hey! How about longer speeches!" That's what the public tunes in for. More glad-handing, pats on the back and speechifying. (Couldn't wait five minutes, could you, Regina?) Oh, you want comedy? Let's have Lil' Rel play a trivia game to...what? Pad time? Oh, so that Glenn Close can dance "Da Butt". That's entertainment. Also scripted. Coming around to the finish line, Best Picture was announced before Actor and Actress. Why? So that they cold give a posthumous award to the late Chadwick Boseman and show everyone (except for the stranded commuters) that Hollywood does have a heart after all! "And the Oscar goes to...Anthony Hopkins." He couldn't be there that night, so the Academy accepted on his behalf. G'night, folks!

Hoist by their own petard! Lord, deliver me from people with good intentions...

What a bunch of dopes. Whoever is upset over the results, shut your holes. It's an Award show. The votes were tabulated and Hopkins won. Period. End of story. The real kerfluffle (pardon my French) is that the Best Actor was conspicuously and intentionally placed at the very end as if the Powers That Be had inside information to the results. If Boseman did win, wouldn't that look a wee bit suspicious? Would anyone call them on it? What an insult to the Boseman family to have their son used in such a manner, making the Academy and ABC look benevolent.  Shame on them. Chadwick Boseman deserved better than that. Those of us that suffered through this did as well.

The Oscars have been on a downward spiral for years now. Many things have contributed to its demise such as the internet, social media and the onslaught of similar award presentations that precede it. The Hollywood community doesn't do themselves any favors by lecturing the public from their lofty platforms while preaching to the choir before them who hang on every precious syllable. Besides that, the old hocus pocus just doesn't work anymore. It's as dated as a three ring circus. It's nothing more than a fashion show now and nothing much more. The movies don't seem to enter into it at all. A public service announcement sponsored by the National Association of Theater Owners featuring Matthew McConaughey proclaiming that cinemas were back in business again, ran in the Oscar pre-show, not in the main broadcast. That spoke volumes.

There's no coming back from this. They'll try, try again, struggling to regain the faith of the Great Unwashed and failing each and every time. When the contract with ABC expires, it will no longer be financially feasible to continue on this large of a scale. I heard a critic mention that, in the intimate setting of Union Station, the show was pretty much "in the room", meaning not for the general public. The whole thing began with a dinner and ceremony much like the Globes. Maybe it should continue on that path. Pre-record the bloody thing, edit it down to two hours and broadcast it if you really feel the need. Because the Oscars as we knew them are indeed over. 

And, oh yeah, NOMADLAND won Best Picture.

Roll credits.

Oscars So What?

When I think about the debacle known as the 92nd Annual Academy Awards ceremony AKA Oscars 2020 AKA Shitshow Unextraordinaire, I can't shake the image of a deflated party balloon. Having watched this show my entire life,  there have been some wretched productions, many outright disasters and several that have been boring beyond belief. Yet in this vast graveyard there existed a sense of celebration, a false front to be sure because that is what Hollywood does best, but at least it was a chance to revel in the end in the undeniable gaudy wonderfulness of it all. There's no business like show business after all and isn't it grand to be able to acknowledge that to the world? As a viewer I wanted to be a part of it (like New York, New York) and, if I couldn't be there, I could covet it without guilt due to the lifelong love I've always felt. And let the nay-sayers be damned because I am the Great Academy Award Show Apologist! Boring? Hah! Self-congratulatory? You bet! It's all about the movies, baby and I am soaking in it!

Alas, that's all over I'm afraid. Welcome to the Woke Culture Oscars once again and it may very well be the end of the line. Sunday night's show certainly ring the death knell louder than ever as it defiantly promotes sanctimony in its own inimitable and hypocritical ways. What made it so miserable is the community itself chasing its own tale attempt to right the wrongs of the world that is increasingly abandoning it like a redheaded stepchild. A sense of dread has fallen over the entire proceedings because it won't be long before anyone will be preaching to the choir. They'll testify their insufferable opinions to the great unwashed and those who have attended will cheer in agreement being of one unsound hive mindset. Disagree and you'll be banished (or dare I say blacklisted?)  As inclusive as Hollywood claims to be, the more exclusive intolerant they've become, gladly supplying their harshest critics with ammunition in hopes of taking them down from their lofty perches while the rest of the audience tunes out. But that only encourages them to blather on and on as presenters at recipients rail on about the lack of diversity,  representation and acknowledgement of those worthier than those who are actually made it to the final ballot, the rotten bastards. These nominees, if you want to call them that, sat in uncomfortable reverence as their so-called "accomplishments" are denounced and lambasted by a barrage of continuous liberal guilt. "Gosh, I feel bad that Greta Gerwig or Awkwafina weren't nominated. I wish there was something I could do. What? I won? Suck on that, you talentless fucks!"

The show, the grand finale of the awards season could not have been more lackluster as if that was the goal. The no host gambit, which paid off okay last year, didn't work at all this time around. Too many non-entities giving introductions to minor celebs. It wasn't so much of a "who's who" as it was a "who's that?" The opening number could not have been more generic and pandering to us to illustrate the lack of diversity message right out of the gate. Janelle Monae, an extremely dynamic performer, worked her butt off with the most generic material possible. Steve Martin and Chris Rock, an oil and water duo if there ever was one, gave us middling fond memories of an opening monologue (or dialogue as a case may be) with little payoff. Most of what passed for comedy lay on the ground like so much litter,wasting semi-precious time (see Maya Rudolph and Kristen Wiig or Will Ferrell and Julia Louis-Dreyfus. Or don't. You'll be better off.) The only honest laughter I got were from two performers I normally despise. James Corden and Rebel Wilson's send up of CATS actually gave me a stupid laugh with their silly bit. Hey, I was entertainment deprived by that point Nominated songs were just throwaways. And what the hell was Eminem doing there? He couldn't bother to show up when he wasn't actually nominated, so let's bring him back over 15 years later for...what? Anthony Hopkins wasn't there this year, so he should come back in 2021 and sing "It's Hard Out here for a Pimp".

I have no quibble for awards themselves. Should PARASITE have won over everything else or was this another form of that W word again? After viewing it, I choose the former. I thought 1917 was going to be this year's GREEN BOOK and wanted to proven wrong. 1917 was excellent, but it paled in comparison to PARASITE, ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD and THE IRISHMAN, so the fact they didn't go safe with their choice is fine with me. And Bong Joon-Ho, his cast and crew  had at least a sense that they were actually glad to be there and for the right reasons-the Oscars, for crying out loud. Pleased to see Brad Pitt win as well as Joaquin Phoenix....however...Brad said he only had 45 seconds for his acceptance...what the hell happened with Joaquin and Renee Zellweger? Already at the three hour mark and change, they rambled on (especially the Joaqer) for what seemed to be hours on ends. As Ricky Gervais said at the Golden Globes, "Get your award, say thank and fuck off." Nope. Had to hear Phoenix's sad cow story and down the drain we went...

The time has come to stop broadcasting the Oscars live on national TV. Go to cable or a streaming service or the highlights on YouTube. Awards shows have hit their event horizon. Ride off in the sunset. Roll credits.

Am I basing all this gloom and doom on one rotten show? Hardly. It's been coming for a long time. You can't have a party balloon if they're going to prick it with a pin before it's inflated. What do they expect the end result is gong to be?

But the big question remains:  Will I watch again next year? It depends. What else is on?

O Oscar, Where Art Thou?

The Super Bowl of All Award Shows has come and gone and the season has come to a close. For better or for worse, the Academy Awards stumbled and bumbled its way to the Big Night with all the grace and subtlety of a Rudy Guiliani interview on CNN.

In the run-up to the Oscarcast, the host debacle threatened to sabotage the whole megillah when Kevin Hart was announced as MC until to be lambasted for some of his older material, perceived by many as insensitive and  homophobic, though it hasn't hurt his career at all. And it never will...as long he keeps making money. A big box office forgives all sins, except as host of the modern day Academy Awards. So the search for a replacement was on. Apparently, no one volunteered for this thankless job especially since the vetting process is worse than a new Supreme Court Justice. I myself threw my hat in the ring to no avail and I'm now without a hat. The decision came down go host-less, something that had been done in the past but now seems like a "bold and daring move". There are no new ideas in Hollywood, only short term memory losses.

In order to streamline the long haul broadcast, this year's producers thought it would be a swell idea to cut the number of performances of nominated songs to two and hand out such unimportant awards such as cinematography and film editing during commercial breaks. That went over like R. Kelly's GoFundMe campaign. Lady Gaga said she'd only perform if all 5 were allowed, so there, suckas. (It turned to be only 4 anyway since Kendrick Lamarr and SZA weren't available to sing the Black Panther song and nobody asked Weezer to fill in with their rockin' rendition of "Africa".) Martin Scorsese and a band of goodfellas went up in arms about the non-broadcast award presentations so again, all or nothing. They went with all.

With the trade papers predicting a major disaster must go on and most certainly did. The end result was a damn decent Oscarcast that relied more on what the evening was supposed to be about-the Awards, stupid. A lot less speechifyin', cutting the rhetoric down to at least half and the dreaded T word wasn't uttered once, unless I missed it. If I did, I didn't.

The show began with a cold open, a performance by the remaining members of Queen with American Idol runner-up Adam Lambert filling in for Freddy Mercury because no one asked Rami Malek like they did Bradley Cooper. Still in all, a decent substitute for an opening monologue to get this thing off with a bang. The awards were all over the place, mostly predictable in the early going with technical wins for BLACK PANTHER and BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY.  Mahershala Ali and Regina King picked up statues for GREEN BOOK and IF BEALE STREET COULD TALK respectively.  Are these two on career trajectories or what? While I'm particularly taken with my girl Regina, both are becoming major players, a testament to their fortitude. Some presenters were better (Melissa McCarthy) than others (John Mulaney and Awkwafina) though nobody embarrassed themselves as they did on the last Golden Globes or Emmys. Then the ROMA train started charging through. Alfonso Cuaron should have just stayed on stage. That would have saved some time. Jennifer Hudson and the Divine Miss M were in fine voice for their nominated song performances. But then came Gaga. She and the Coop's rendition of "Shallow" had to be one of the finest moments in recent Oscar history. This is the second time she's given a solid golden moment on this show and I hope there are many more to come. All hail Gaga! Getting down to the finish line, GREEN BOOK won for original screenplay. I guess you can go back to your seat, Alfonso. BLACK KKKLANSMAN was up next for adaptation, Spike Lee hitting the stage in record time and straight into Sam Jackson's arms. Though three others won the award with him, Spike dug out his manifesto and rambled on like there was no tomorrow, hogging the microphone from the other guys. Hey, his first trip to the winner's circle and maybe, just maybe he thought he wouldn't be back? Moving on. Rami Malek comes up with Best Actor. Does he thank the director? Did anyone from BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY thank the director? In case you don't know, the director's name is Bryan Singer. He wasn't nominated nor was at the ceremony, though I heard he attended an Oscar night viewing party at Kevin Spacey's. Next up, Best Actress, supposedly a lock for Glenn Close in THE WIFE in which she is superb...and BAM! Olivia Coleman for THE FAVOURITE. Holy moley! No worries, mate. Liv's been on a tear for the last few years, mostly TV, but certainly a force to reckon with. And Glenn becomes Oscar's Susan Lucci. Director...oh, hola, Alfonso! You're back! Now we're in the stretch...it looks like ROMA at the wire, but no! It's GREEN BOOK. GREEN BOOK? Okay... Well, Spike tossed a lil' ol' hissy fit cuz he lost out to this film, ala DRIVING MISS DAISY winning the year of DO THE RIGHT THING which didn't get a nom. Them's the breaks, tough guy. Would you be so pissed if ROMA beat your ass? I didn't think so. Sorry, Brother Lee. Your film not taking home the big prize had more to do with you being a New York guy and not LA royalty. Tough'ns. GREEN BOOK's win is curious. Is it the prestige picture the Academy loves so dang much? I would have gone with BLACK PANTHER, though I consider its cultural status overrides its actual viability as a solid, albeit familiar superhero tale. The fact that these movies are driving the industry should have made it a slam dunk for that alone, coupled with the fact that it's a freakin' phenomenon that made history. Nope. (And SPIDERMAN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE winning Best Animated Film...no mention of Stan Lee. Boo.) Actually, GREEN BOOK 's Best Picture nod (So prestigious for the Oscars! We made a good SAFE choice!) was more of a big "FUCK YOU" to Netflix. They somehow believe they can stop this juggernaut by snubbing them at the last second. Amazon plays the Hollywood game, but not the Netflix so their bragging rights have just been tempered. And then they raised their rates. Thanks, Academy!

So all in all, the show went better than planned, but anything could the way they handled it at the outset. It could have all been just a happy accident. one they'll try to duplicate next year. Naturally.

Until then, see you at the movies! They're right there on the menu between "Hard Hitting British Dramas" and "Because You Watched Poophead". Oh, you have Hulu.... 

Oscar and the Hate-Watch

Why does anyone watch the Academy Awards ceremony anymore? I do. I always do, but I'm not like most of you. I'm an obsessive film geek. I'll watch that show, good, bad or really ugly until the day I bite the big one, though I'll probably not make the In Memoriam segment of the show (aka the Death Parade).

But what about the rest of you? You know damn well that the Oscarcast is an overlong slog, always going over its allotted three hour time slot. It's an awards show. Other than the major awards, do you really give two figs who gets what, unless you have some dough riding on your office pool? Then of course there is the politically charged nature from the community, a gate propped open by Michael Moore's fat ass over a decade ago that may never be closed. It always stirs the right wing into a frenzy, which is not a bad thing at all.

The Oscars are the ultimate hate-watch, an insipid cultural symptom of our gluttonous ways. It is imperative that, no matter that there are thousands of options available to view on every sort of platform, we have to torture ourselves watching something we are already pre-disposed to hate just so we can get online and share our outrage with the rest of the world. What a bunch of maroons we are.

This year's Academy Awards clocked in at about 3 hours and 40 minutes and frankly, was no better or worse than most of them. There was an over-abundance of speechifying, totally expected due to the nature of recent events, though some handled it better than others. Lupita Nyongo'o and Kumail Nanjiani's thoughts on Dreamers hit the mark beautifully and there was no better advocate for the Times Up movement than Frances McDormand. The show relied too heavily on montages (cutting a couple wouldn't have hurt) and the invasion of the cinema across the street took up too much time, though I rather enjoyed it, especially since they cut into A WRINKLE IN TIME during one of Oprah's big scenes. The musical numbers were quite good, but thanks to some uninspired staging, there sure seemed to be a lot of standing around. On the basis of their performances, I would have voted for THE GREATEST SHOWMAN's "This is Me" over the song from COCO. And is there something in the Academy by-laws that require Common's appearance every year? I also think that, despite what most of the critics have written, Tiffany Haddish is going to wear out her welcome quicker than Amy Schumer. I'd keep Jimmy Kimmel as host. He's been the best of the 21st century, with the exception of Hugh Jackman. (No, I'm not being ironic) It's also high time to pack the ceremony with more A list talent. Too many of this year's presenters were more like a Who's Who? At certain moments, I felt like I was watching the Kid's Choice Awards on Nickelodeon. I half-way expected the stars of BABY DRIVER to get slimed. Jane Fonda would have been a better choice. (On another note, she really is looking more and more like her dad Henry, isn't she?)

To cut down on time, it may be time to move some awards over to the presentation of the honorary ceremony such as the short subjects, sound, special effects, makeup and costumes. Bring the winners in and acknowledge them on the Big Night. (By the way, where were the Honorary Award winners this year?) Awarding others in less than major categories happens at the Grammys, why not here?

And maybe Kimmel accidentally hit onto an idea that might help boost the Oscar's rating, which have dipped lower than ever, with his jet ski gag. Tap into that Oscar pool concept and take it to the next level. Make it part of the show, boost the pot and award some movie swag. Couldn't hurt.

The Awards themselves offered no surprises, which is actually fine with me. I was overjoyed to see THE SHAPE OF WATER get the love it so deserved. Nothing has restored my faith in the magic of movies more in recent memory. Guillermo del Toro is a geek god and that community should bow to him in great respect. Everything else was down the line and as I said, that was fine.

From a show I was dreading after an award season that buffered my very soul,  I may have my problems with the 90th Academy Award presentation, but it won't keep me from watching it next year or any year after that until I bite the big one. I can't speak for the rest of you. I'll let you do that for each other as I know you will.

OSCAR BLOGS FROM DAYS GONE BY

Happy Birthday to Me

Every year when I hit this mile post known as my birthday (or rather it hits me), I treat myself to a special movie of choice, a present and tribute to me, for me and by me. I honestly don't recall when this tradition of mine began, but I do know that I started to keep track as far back as 1993 when I took in Joe Dante's sweet little piece of nostalgia MATINEE.

Over the last quarter century, I've made some damn good choices film-wise, many of which I regard of some of my favorites of all time, a list so long it would be impossible to chronicle due to its sheer heft.  Among those birthday movies have been the aforementioned MATINEE, David Lynch's THE STRAIGHT STORY, Danny Boyle's SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE, Darren Aronofsky's BLACK SWAN, The Coen Brothers' NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, Sam Mendes' REVOLUTIONARY ROAD, Peter Jackson's LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy (one three years in a row), Alejandro Innaritu's BIRDMAN and oh so many more.

Birthday Movie 2007 was Guillermo del Toro's PAN'S LABYRINTH, a magical piece of work I admired so much that I have been anxiously awaiting a follow-up (or through) from this visionary director. Unfortunately, his subsequent efforts have underwhelmed and frankly, tried my patience.

Until now.

THE SHAPE OF WATER is flat out magnificent. This is why I go to the movies. Del Toro's innate and abundant sense of wonder shows in every single frame of this fantastic film. This is something recent cinema has lost, buried beneath overdone and used CGI with nothing else to back it up such as story, character and, most of all, heart. At its core, WATER is a love story. Del Toro's heart lies in the passion he coveys in his vision, execution and the art form itself.

His tall tale, set in Cold War-era Baltimore, concerns the non-traditional relationship between a mute cleaning woman and an aquatic man-like creature. Outwardly, it may not be the most original concept, especially if you reduce it down to a mash-up of CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON and SPLASH with a little BEAUTY AND THE BEAST thrown in for good measure. But del Toro's take on the proceedings, adding characters like Richard Jenkins' closeted artist (my choice for the Best Supporting Actor over Sam Rockwell) and Sally Hawkins' Elisa, the big fish's gf, as well as some wonderful homages to cinema itself, warmed my soul as no other film has in recent memory. There are nit-picky flaws here and there which kept from from being that absolutely perfect jewel, such as Michael Shannon cast once again as the heavy, though, thankfully not in a merely stereotypical sense.Maybe I appreciate these rough edges since they are honed down by some gasp inducing visuals and emotional points that embedded this film into my internal film vault forever. I floated out of the cinema in a state of bliss on yes, the shape of water..

Bravo, Guillermo. I'm sorry I doubted you. And thank you. I couldn't have picked a better birthday film for myself and THE SHAPE OF WATER was the perfect gift. I hope Oscar smiles upon you.
       

Oscar's Big Boner

 Well, hoo-ray for Hollywood!

The biggest event of the year in the entertainment capital of the world known as the Academy Awards was quite the hoot this go around. This shimmer has dimmed on Oscar, the Golden Boy in recent years thanks to an non-stop onslaught of awards shows, all of them televised to drive the point home that YES, MOVIES STILL MATTER. That is, despite the fact that cinemas are on the endangered species list with the massive swift toward home entertainment and that currently, TV rules the roost in the current Zeitgeist. (No, no the sequel to Poltergeist).

This year's circle jerk was more entertaining than usual thanks to the efforts of new producers Michael De Luca and Jennifer Todd who took a page from the Golden Globes and gave this old chestnut some much needed life with more of a party atmosphere. It began with a bang with Justin Timberlake's nominated song "Can't Stop the Feeling", a rousing little ditty that brought the crowd to its feet for the first time. While not one of my personal faves, JT did kick the show off quite nicely. This led to Jimmy Kimmel's entrance as this year's host and, quite frankly, he owned it. They have been looking for a more permanent host for awhile and Kimmel fit the bill near-perfectly, nearly as smooth as Bob Hope and Billy Crystal back in the day.

The general celebration actually muted the political posturing with less speechifying than I expected, which I was getting ready to dread due to political fatigue. When points were made, they were appropriately placed for the most part and carried more weight as a result, perhaps with the exception of Gael Garcia Bernal's ham-handed two cents on the Trump wall. It was awkward and unnecessary as he preached on before giving out the award for Best Animated Feature. Bad timing. Much better was the letter written by Iranian filmaker Asghar Farhadi (read by Anousheh Ansari) upon winning Best Foreign Film for THE SALESMAN, a strongly worded statement on the Trump travel ban.  The other Trump digs during the night were more teasing in nature, especially Kimmel's Tweet to the Donald "Meryl says hi." but it was obvious that knives were sharpened and ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.

As though Blake Edwards ran the show, this seemed to be a slapstick affair from the start with poor adorable Aul'i Cravalho getting smacked in the back the head during her otherwise quite excellent rendition of the nominated song from MOANA, Then Seth Rogen bonked his noggin climbing out of the Delorean with Michael J. Fox. And the usually somber In Memoriam segment (aka The Death Parade) included a tribute to Australian costume designer Janet Patterson. Well deserved to be sure, except they showed the wrong Australian- producer Janet Patterson who is alive and well at this writing, but I haven't checked today, Janet, you alright, sweetheart? Sorry the Academy killed you prematurely.

But it was still all fun and games until we hit the three and a half hour mark when the Best Picture was finally about to be announced by Hollywood icons Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway when...WHOOPSY-DAISY!

You know the story. LA LA LAND was mistakenly announced when MOONLIGHT was the actual winner.

Conspiracy theories have abounded hither and tither over this major gaffe, one including Leonardo DiCaprio, the other involving the Academy itself attempting to amp up the drama and prove they are good Liberals after all by taking the trophy out of the hands of LA LA's white privelege and handing it over to MOONLIGHT to prove without a doubt the BLACK LIVES MATTER. (But not as much as THE MOVIES.)

But that's not what I believe happened at all.

The Russians were behind it all. They hacked into Pricewaterhouse and successfully sabotaged the awards to denigrate this beloved American institution in front of the entire world. And Warren Beatty was in on it the entire time. Hold on a second. Isn't he like a  Tinseltown Liberal god, second to none except maybe Babs Streisand herself? Well let me ask you something in return, Ivan, Didn't Warren Beatty write, direct and star in a movie called REDS? Hmmmmm? Look it up, comrades! The Russkies probably paid off the enormous debt accumulated by his recent flop RULES DON'T APPLY for his "cooperation". And the cherry on top of  the entire shit sundae, President of the United States Donald Jabroni Trump, masterminding the entire debacle to humiliate those he hates just as much the Fake News organizations...and that is THE HOLLYWOOD ELITE. (On the other hand, Putin preferred FENCES. He loves him some Denzel.)

I rest my case. (Don't have a mike, so I'll just drop my pen)

So ends another fairy tale evening in LA LA LAND while basking in the MOONLIGHT.

See you next year!

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.

Monday Morning Oscar Quaterback

Some thoughts from this year's Oscarcast:

*Neil Patrick Harris is the best host since Hugh Jackman. I ate every single word of what I wrote on my last blog.

*The show itself is always going to be a bloated, lumbering spectacle, but this time around, the formula worked more often than not. Some things could have been cut: Harris' "magic" trick, Jennifer Hudson's song-while beautifully performed-was meh.

*The "In Memoriam" segment-AKA The Death Parade-should have included Eddie Murphy's inability to make anyone laugh ever again.

*I love the fact that whatever political statements that were added to acceptance speeches is really frying the Up-Tighty Righties out there who were predisposed to hate the entire affair in the first place due to their hatred of the Hollywood crowd as a whole. And yet, they'll be watching it again next year.

*But hey, Hollyweirdos, you guys really are setting yourselves up to easy targets, ain't ya?

*During Patricia Arquette's call for equal pay, they immediately cut to Meryl Streep for validation. She didn't disappoint.

*Nothing would have been awesome if THE LEGO MOVIE won for Best Song

* Following John Legend and Common's performance of "Glory" from SELMA, bringing the audience to their feet with cheers and tears (White Liberal Guilt at its finest!) and their subsequent win, came the tribute of THE SOUND OF MUSIC, the WHITEST piece of entertainment in the whole wide world Good timing, people.

*However...Lady Gaga took another step closer to Heaven with her performance.

*Julie Andrews' entrance following Gaga even brought a tear to this SOUND OF MUSIC hater's eye.

*Oprah actually she believes she's the heir apparent to the late Maya Angelou. Who in Hollywood is going to tell her otherwise? Since I'm not there, I will. She ain't.

*No problem with any of the awards given this this year. My predictions meant absolutely zilch to me. (I went 3 for 7. Piss poor but who cares?) I'm as pleased as punch that my birthday movie from this year, BIRDMAN, picked up the grand prize. I wanted my man Keaton to pick up Best Actor, but the movie itself is his trophy. Besides, they decided to go the MY LEFT FOOT route with Eddie Redmayne. Julianne Moore, a favorite for Lead Actress since the day she was cast in in STILL ALICE, was the night's only legitimate lock. Why didn't the film itself get some kind of nod? Glad to see GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL and WHIPLASH get some love too.

*Sean Penn's quip about Alejandro Inarritu's green card was so inappropriate that I loved it.

*The ratings were down for this year, many blaming the grandstanding, but there were more obvious factors to consider. The Oscars, at the tale end of the season, have lost their lustre in recent years due to the glut of broadcast awards show (i,e. Golden Globers, SAG, People's Choice, Critic's Choice, Taster's Choice, etc.) The studios backload all their prestigious films to the end of the year in hopes of award glory, making an already cynical public suspicious of the process. It ball boils down to oversaturated fat and overkill. There's really only so much glad-handing the public can take.

*Most of the recipients honored their families in more ways than one. J.K. Simmons thanking his wife, above-average children and his parents prompted him to tell us to call our own folks. Others made a point of mentioning family members, alive and dead (as in the director of IDA's case). Amazing, with all this standing on the soap box known as the worldwide broadcast of the Academy Awards, these people have, what do Conservatives call it, FAMILY VALUES. 

Son of a gun.

Hooray for Hollywood for a change.

Year of the Sap

The first epic blockbuster of the cinema....
THE BIRTH OF A NATION, D.W. GRIFFITH'S's 1915 saga of 19th century America during the Civil War and the Reconstruction. with historical events such as the assassination of President Lincoln and the birth of the Ku Klux Klan.
Starring
Lillian Gish...
Mae Marsh
Wallace Reid
Donald Crisp
and
Raoul Walsh
as John Wilkes Booth.
An amazing film...
with an amazing cast!
BUT...

YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE TODAY!

The racist fucks.

And this film is 100 years old. It wasn't nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars either. So take that, SELMA. There weren't any Academy Awards back then, but that's beside the point. Or is it?

Speaking of which, here are my obligatory Oscar predictions for this year: BOYHOOD, Michael Keaton, Julianne Moore, J.K. Simmons, Patricia Arquette and Richard Linklater. And we'll all be officially sick of Neil Patrick Harris by the end of the show.
                                               
                                                        BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!

Three things I don't want to see in 2015:
1. Vomiting on camera in a film or TV show.
2. LEGOs
3. Anything about the bass
                                                              THAT'S NOT ALL!

Why is that whoever is proclaimed "the worst President ever" is always re-elected? This may have always been the case, but in recent memory, this label has been given to the last three men that held the title of POTUS: Bubba, GW and Bam. All three received two terms. Curious, isn't it? Or...is it?

                                                        AND IF YOU CALL NOW...

It's the Chinese New Year and apparently this is the Year of the Sheep. Unfortunately in America,  it's the Year of the Sap. So far we've had the slapstick antics of side show attraction Bruce Jenner, Brian Williams getting caught tellin' tall tales out of school and Oregon Governor John Kitzhaber taking the fall for his dame blaming the media on his way out the door.. Oh, what will the Spring bring?

UPDATE:
Well, my Oscar picks were punk-ass, as the kids say. (What kids? I dunno...) But there are more saps to add to this growing list, namely Bill "Who put the 'ludes in my Jello?" Cosby and Donald "The Apprentice Republican" Trump. But at least the Confederate flag is toast in South Carolina, causing the corpse of DW Griffith to spin in his grave, Oregon got a new governor in Kate Brown who just might be the ticket, Gay marriage is the law of the land and the USA Women's Soccer Team brought home the World Cup.
The sap numbers keep increasing, but at least now there is a little balance.
Thank you, Universe. We may survive after all.
                                         

Oscar the Grouch

The film awards season is blessedly behind us, another comment on modern day life as we know it. From December to March, an actual season the years is designated to reward the achievements of the previous year by a select few that don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. The whole experience has been transformed into a sporting event for maximum over-exposure with the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat and it's an honor just to be nominated.

Of course this all culminates in the the forever bloated spectacle known as the Academy Awards, formerly the only game in town. Its biggest rival these days, the Golden Globes, used to be a syndicated TV show that often didn't get a tape delayed spot in prime time on an obscure UHF channel (look it up, kids). It was all about the Oscars, baby, the Super Bowl of glad hand extravaganzas. Though its cache has dimmed in the light of a deluge of copycat shows, that gold naked man with a sword remains king and it's good to be the king, isn't it?

This year's show saw the return of Ellen Degeneres as host, a safe choice after last year's Seth "We Saw Your Boobs" McFarlane. It's an interesting comment of how far we've come when an out lesbian can be considered a safe choice. Tolerance, thy name is Hollywood. Think they're progressive? Tune into to the Tony Awards sometime. Those'll make your average backwards leaning Neanderthal's head explode SCANNERS-style.

But it was a softball game at best and slow-pitch at that. The whole enterprise came off as tame, polite and generally inoffensive. In a word, safe, just like its host. This is what political correctness looks like in all its cautious form.* It's been buffed to a dull sheen, putting a grin on the proceedings instead of the pure unadulterated joy of Hooray for fucking Hollywood!

Ellen was quite competent in her role, a much better fit than her first time at bat. At times, she even channeled her finest hour as host of the post 9/11 Emmys, though that was a time when the audience needed to be treated with kid gloves. Thirteen years later, not so much. Some of the time, her antics seemed ill-conceived or randomly coy, something that works on daytime TV, but not in this arena. She scored some, flubbed others, but in all won the Kodak Theater crowd over and that's a tough room. At the end of the day, eh, telecast (same length) Ellen more than earned another stint. Who do you think they're going to ask back, James Franco and Alec Baldwin?

While I hate the cold opening as much as I did last year, at least there was a lack of unnecessary filler and the musical numbers came off surprisingly well. Pharrell Williams, U2 and Idina Menzel all delivered the goods, even with the orchestra inexplicably situated in another building yet again. Karen O's song from HER would have had better luck at a coffeehouse from INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS. The odd choice of Pink singing OVER THE RAINBOW was redeemed by her performance, though Liza with a Z didn't seem to agree.And Bette Midler singing my least favorite Bette Midler song can still knock it into the rafters, though she loses a point for flapping her bubby wing to the chorus. Yikes. But really, how can I damn those Tweeters and Facebook posters who scrutinized every flaw, faux pas and fashion disaster of all the presenters when I'm doing the same thing myself? Easily, I guess. I'm just as big of a snarky bitch as anyone. Then again, you'll never see Kim Novak in public again. As much as we decry bullying, here we sit, firing rounds at any target we choose from a safe distance like the Beltway sniper. Shame on us. Yes, me too.

As for the awards themselves, again, no surprises while many clamored for some legendary GRAVITY vs 12 YEARS shoot-out. Both came away with enough major awards to make Darren McGavin proud.

So the Academy Awards are over. No decent film will be released until next September. Come March of next year, I'll spend another 3 1/2 hours sitting through another exercise in bland ambition, prizes galore and parting gifts for one and all. And then I'll roll my eyes and wonder, "Isn't it time for THE WALKING DEAD?"

*Apparently the exception being Ellen's female impersonation jab at Liza, her only "edgy" joke is causing apoplexy to the LGBTLSMFT community. The death of comedy is imminent.

Oscar Not-So Wild

Here are my two cents on the this year's Oscars. That's about all I can afford anyway, but it's worth every penny.

I watch the Academy Awards every year without fail. It's my Super Bowl event. And like that game is 90% of the time, the actual show is secondary to the build-up, the hype, the brouhaha...but that's Hollywood, ain't it? There's a lot leading up to it and even more going away, especially in this day and age of social media...like this!

So the show is always overlong, usually boring and many times uneventful. But for myself, I'd say entertaining, at least and reasonably well-produced.

Not this year. Producers Craig Zadan and Neil Meron gave us the clunkiest show in years. This made the James Franco/Anne Hathaway look like a well oiled machine. Here's what didn't work:

The cold opening. No montage saluting the industry or the year, straight or parody? Seth MacFarlane was doomed from his entrance. He had nowhere to go but up. Instead, he went sideways with the awkward Shatner cameo and two pointless song and dance numbers. At least "We Saw Your Boobs" had an element of originality to it as well the FLIGHT sock puppet send-up. The opening went way too frigging long.

A Salute to Musicals of the Past Decade. All 3 of them. Unnecessary, no matter how good Jennifer Hudson killed it. I also liked LES MIZ, but still...what's next year...a tribute to remakes?

The James Bond tribute. Big build-up for little pay-off, except the great Shirley Bassey, blowing Adele out of the water. And the house orchestra backing Shirley up  wasn't onstage like Adele's. Hers was down the street in another building. Whose brilliant idea was that? Were they non-union?

The bundling of Best Picture nominees three at a time made them feel like an obligation other than the reason the damn show exists in the first place.
As for the presenters, I have plenty of contempt as well. THE AVENGERS whining about their lack of Oscar cred since their movie was so popular? Not very superhero like, boys. Did Paul Rudd and Melissa McCarthy miss rehearsal? Jack Nicholson is turning into a parody of a parody of himself. What's with that tux? Did they finally settle the Buddy Hackett estate? And the First Lady's embarrassing appearance would have only been redeemed if  DJANGO UNCHAINED won or if her husband strolled by in the back ground while they were filming wearing a bathrobe, scratching himself and saying, "Michelle! Keep it down out here! Some of us have to go to work in the morning!"

MacFarlane was an unseasoned host, not really comfortable onstage especially in front of that crowd. He wasn't Franco bad, but he definitely need some more work. At least he didn't take the safe approach of Billy Crystal last year. Seth doesn't know the meaning of the word "safe".He's been getting the misogynist, homophobic, racist remarks since long before he hit the Oscar stage. He's made of Teflon. It slides right off, especially since the ratings numbers are up this year, thanks in part to his participation. Lighten up, folks. No harm done. Quitcher bitchin'. He won't be back.

The awards? Oh yeah. No surprises, save Christoph Waltz and Ang Lee. Nice to see Daniel Day-Lewis lighten up. Didn't know he had it in him. Everything else was unfortunately predictable.

Hopefully Zadan and Meron are out for next year. Get somebody in there that can put together a half-way decent show. They blew it big time. Gil Cates is still rolling over in his grave like a zombie rotisserie.

Okay, social media. Let the snivelling continue.

As for me, I'll be here next year. After all, I'm the caretaker. I've always been the caretaker.

Down, Oscar! Bad Dog!!

Well, it's all over and so's the shouting. Oscar Night 2011 ends with a whimper or two and not necessarily with any sort of bang at all.

Show-wise, it couldn't have been blander. The combination of James Franco and Anne Hathaway worked only in the commercials, not on the actual program. Anne seemed to be really out of her depth for the long haul and Franco, well, son, you've finally overextended yourself. all you had going for yourself was that smug grin on your mug that wore out its welcome before the first half-hour was up or about the time Kirk Douglas finally wrapped it up. In fact, he was grinning so much that he seemed to be channeling his stoner character from PINEAPPLE EXPRESS. The opening film was okay, but nothing we haven't seen before and, even "trimmed"(w/o those damn tributes...how dare they try to impose any kind of historical perspective!), the running time still crawled past the three hour mark. I wouldn't have called it worse than last year's bore-a-thon, but it sure seemed like amateur night or even a community theater award event (something I know a little about). But asses were kissed, not kicked like at the Golden Globes, though I really think Hollywood needs to be schooled by Ricky Gervais. Fortunately, there were a lack of Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber types (thank you, Lord!) but still had to endure even thirty seconds of the wretched mess known as Russell Brand. Please check out the trailer to his latest wreck, a remake of ARTHUR and tell me I'm wrong. Ick to Nth degree. In all, Hugh Jackman a couple of years back spoiled us. Time to return to a single host, one that's up to the task. Billy Crystal's passed his prime, but maybe they should be looking around for another version in the same mold.

I went 15 out of 25 for my picks, predictions and guesses, about 60% with no real issue with any of the results. Glad to see INCEPTION get some love along with the others, but I do think Roger Deakins' work on TRUE GRIT was snubbed. THE KING'S SPEECH might actually have deserved Best Picture. Don't know. Haven't seen it. I chose THE SOCIAL NETWORK. No surprises for the award winners and too bad 'cuz the show done needed it.

But worst Oscar show ever? Not hardly. I've been watching these babies since the Sixties and, even though it was pretty craptacular, it ain't the benchmark. It was probably the sloppiest and perhaps even the clunkiest in recent memory, but hey, I still ate it up with a big ol' spoon like I always do. Still, it has a kind of a stale taste to it, probably because of the barrage of award shows that precede it. The Academy Awards are the Super Bowl of these events and really need to treated as such by the producers. Otherwise, ABC, which has the broadcast rights until 2020, is going to regret its decision. Skewing to a younger demographic always gets you in trouble, especially when you aren't up to the task and the youth don't give a good damn to begin with.

Perhaps in the future, it would behoove the Academy to follow this edict:

IT'S THE MOVIES, STUPID!