Obligatory Post-Oscar Post
The Magic 8-Ball got 5 out 25. Not great, but right around what chance would predict. (Yes, I know that not all of the categories had 5 nominees, and that therefore the results are actually a little worse than chance would predict. I'll do the math later, if I'm up to it. Right now? Splitting headache.)
The Academy's official message this year was, "Go see movies in theaters. If you watch on DVD or iPod, you miss out on a whole, um, experience."
The movie that won? The one with the distributor who sent DVDs to every person who could possibly vote for anything.
Larry McMurtry's tux jacket-and-jeans ensemble was the sartorial equivalent of a mullet.
I think I love George Clooney. I know. Get in line.
Like I said: Memoirs of a Geisha was a very pretty movie. I still can't believe it won for cinematography, though. Maybe too many votes were split between Brokeback Mountain and Good Night, And Good Luck. Or else the fact that total laypeople like me and the people with whom I was watching were able to point to those two films as being really well-shot means that we're totally missing the point.
No matter what you think of the winning song, you must admit: Three 6 Mafia seemed genuinely thrilled to be there. Which is more than you can say for a lot of the acting nominees.
I'm sure my mother assumes that if I win an award on an internationally-televised broadcast, I am going to thank her and my father profusely. She also thinks that I will wear my bridesmaid dress from my brother's wedding. I mean, I'm sure I'll name-check the folks, being as they're my parents and support me even when they're not quite sure what I'm doing and all, but they're going to have to share their time with other people. My friends, for example. My hypothetical manager. Every guy who's ever pissed me off. Whatever the award turns out to be, I'm sure that those guys will have provided fuel for it somehow.
Definitely not wearing the bridesmaid dress, though.
Can I be Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep when I grow up?
The Wallace and Grommit guys putting little bow ties on their statuettes: Kinda cute. The March of the Penguin guys going up with huge stuffed penguins? Overkill. There is a happy medium, and I think it's around eighteen inches high.
In case those of you who don't live in Los Angeles were wondering what we residents thought of Jon Stewart's rundown of "what people are saying" about Hollywood -- "too liberal, out of touch with mainstream America, a modern day beachfront Sodom and Gomorrah, a black hole where innocence is obliterated, an endless orgy of sexual gratification and greed...":
"Jealous."
I think I kinda love Jon Stewart, too. I know. Married.
Morning-after amusement: Watching movie critics try to figure out how Crash beat Brokeback Mountain. Hidden homophobia leading to Brokeback backlash? The fact that so many of the voters live in Los Angeles? Oprah? There must be some great, unrelated-to-the-movie's-actual-merits-(or-lack-thereof) reason. It certainly wasn't because Lions Gate sent out about 130,000 freakin' DVDs. Naaaah.
Midnightinis rock.
The Academy's official message this year was, "Go see movies in theaters. If you watch on DVD or iPod, you miss out on a whole, um, experience."
The movie that won? The one with the distributor who sent DVDs to every person who could possibly vote for anything.
Larry McMurtry's tux jacket-and-jeans ensemble was the sartorial equivalent of a mullet.
I think I love George Clooney. I know. Get in line.
Like I said: Memoirs of a Geisha was a very pretty movie. I still can't believe it won for cinematography, though. Maybe too many votes were split between Brokeback Mountain and Good Night, And Good Luck. Or else the fact that total laypeople like me and the people with whom I was watching were able to point to those two films as being really well-shot means that we're totally missing the point.
No matter what you think of the winning song, you must admit: Three 6 Mafia seemed genuinely thrilled to be there. Which is more than you can say for a lot of the acting nominees.
I'm sure my mother assumes that if I win an award on an internationally-televised broadcast, I am going to thank her and my father profusely. She also thinks that I will wear my bridesmaid dress from my brother's wedding. I mean, I'm sure I'll name-check the folks, being as they're my parents and support me even when they're not quite sure what I'm doing and all, but they're going to have to share their time with other people. My friends, for example. My hypothetical manager. Every guy who's ever pissed me off. Whatever the award turns out to be, I'm sure that those guys will have provided fuel for it somehow.
Definitely not wearing the bridesmaid dress, though.
Can I be Lily Tomlin and Meryl Streep when I grow up?
The Wallace and Grommit guys putting little bow ties on their statuettes: Kinda cute. The March of the Penguin guys going up with huge stuffed penguins? Overkill. There is a happy medium, and I think it's around eighteen inches high.
In case those of you who don't live in Los Angeles were wondering what we residents thought of Jon Stewart's rundown of "what people are saying" about Hollywood -- "too liberal, out of touch with mainstream America, a modern day beachfront Sodom and Gomorrah, a black hole where innocence is obliterated, an endless orgy of sexual gratification and greed...":
"Jealous."
I think I kinda love Jon Stewart, too. I know. Married.
Morning-after amusement: Watching movie critics try to figure out how Crash beat Brokeback Mountain. Hidden homophobia leading to Brokeback backlash? The fact that so many of the voters live in Los Angeles? Oprah? There must be some great, unrelated-to-the-movie's-actual-merits-(or-lack-thereof) reason. It certainly wasn't because Lions Gate sent out about 130,000 freakin' DVDs. Naaaah.
Midnightinis rock.
posted by Rose at
6:48 PM
2 Comments:
Whacha think of Annie Proulx's Guardian editorial?
http://tinyurl.com/eudsj
By
bd__sd, at March 14, 2006 at 4:43 PM
Dear Annie,
Get. Over. It. The big Oscars aren't about merit; they're about the nominees that the voters think are best. Brokebacks's marketing to voters got outplayed by Crash's. If you think you can do a better job of it, then turn another one of your stories into a movie and run the Oscar campaign yourself. Otherwise, accept the Oscars for what they are: A chance for movie people to get all dressed up, and for everyone else to mock them.
Smooches!
By
Rose, at March 14, 2006 at 5:34 PM
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