I also find the posing and preening on the Red Carpet to be particularly repellant. Ugh, my God, that combination of smarmy narcissism and the accompanying, ass-kissy commentary from the hosts is simply god-awful. Was the whole red carpet circus always so obnoxious? Hell, I can't even remember there being a red carpet when I was growing up and actually had an interest in watching this shit. Although there was never any shortage of couture and cleavage on display, it didn't seem quite so egregious. How could it with all that fabulousness? Was there ever a more glamorous movie star than Elizabeth Taylor? Seriously, don't answer that because it's not an actual question. It's me telling you that there never has been, and never will be, a movie star (or possibly any human being, for that matter) as glamorous as Elizabeth Taylor.
Of course, back then, I'd actually seen most of the nominated films. Of which there were 5, not 10.
Strangely (or maybe not) I never minded all the political posturing among the winners, although some of the more long-winded speeches did set my teeth on edge. But, let's face it, all long-winded speeches set my teeth on edge, whether they're political or not.
I am happy to see the increasing diversity amongst nominees. Jimmy Kimmel and Variety's Owen Gleiberman are both kvetching that the members of the Academy turn up their collective noses at blockbusters (they seem especially peeved that Spider Man: No Way Home didn't get nominated for Best Picture--even though Gleiberman purports to have hated it--when The Power of the Dog did). Isn't the whole point of giving an award for excellence in filmmaking supposed to be based on skill and talent, and not the film's popularity at the box office? Gleiberman goes so far to opine that The Power of the Dog is (basically) Oscar-bait--good enough but, somehow, unworthy of its nomination. To be honest, I haven't seen the Spider Man film (and have no intention of doing so) but, of all the films I have seen this past year, The Power of the Dog stands out as the best. As far as Kimmel's and Gleiberman's gripe over the perceived lack of blockbuster nominations, I'd say do a little research and look at the history of the Best Picture category (Black Panther, Avatar, Raiders of the Lost Ark, E.T. and Jaws are just a few blockbusters among many on the list).
Somehow, the appalling Don't Look Up got nominated for Best Picture and I don't hear Kimmel and Gleiberman complaining about that. In fact, Gleiberman actually liked it, which, I suppose, explains a lot. Denis Villeneuve's Dune (not exactly a box-office flop) also received a Best Picture nom, and probably the less said about that, the better.
Our friend, Kevin, went to see the Japanese darling, Drive My Car (at this writing, heavily favored to win) and said that it was very slow but after it ended, he cried all the way home. How, exactly, does one respond to that? It doesn't much sound like a ringing endorsement, what with the prominence of that phrase very slow. And as far as the crying business goes, well, color me skeptical. Kevin's recounting of his numerous pursuits (cultural and otherwise) tends towards the hyperbolic. Thus has ever been the case.
Paolo Sorrentino's wonderful The Hand of God was--and may still be--playing on Netflix and is nominated for Best International Feature Film. Sorrentino's The Great Beauty (an all-time fave) won the 2013 Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film before its name was changed to Best International Feature Film.
Since we are speaking of foreign language films, how does a movie get nominated for both Best Picture and Best International Feature Film? I mean, I know Parasite did it a few years ago, but still, that seems redundant to me. Why not just do away with the Best International Feature Film category altogether and allow all the films, foreign and domestic, to compete for the main prize?
Yesterday, we saw Parallel Mothers, Pedro Almodovar's new movie featuring Penelope Cruz (Oscar nominated for Best Actress) playing an expectant single mother of a certain age who goes into labor at the same time as a pregnant teenager and finds herself with all kinds of complications. I love just about any film by Almodovar (excepting the 2013 dud I'm So Excited!) and Parallel Mothers didn't disappoint.
A couple of months ago we watched Nicole Kidman and Javier Bardem (both nominated in the Best Acting categories) in Being the Ricardos, Aaron Sorkin's entertaining look at an eventful week in the lives of Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz. Most of the supporting cast of The Power of the Dog, and J.K. Simmons (as William Frawley/Fred Mertz) from Being the Ricardos, have received Oscar nods.
Other than these films, we haven't seen any of the other Oscar contenders, unless you count Billie Eilish susurrating the Oscar-nominated theme song for No Time to Die. Look, I just can't with Billie Eilish, okay? I mean, eeek!
I'd still like to get a look at Nightmare Alley (although it's almost 3 hours long and what the fuck is up with that, Guillermo del Toro?) and King Richard and, of course, Denzel Washington's Macbeth movie, which has somehow eluded me during my recent convalescence. Maybe I'd also enjoy Licorice Pizza except I didn't find the trailer all that appealing, so I don't know. The soundtrack is great. Belfast? So not a fan of Branagh. West Side Story? Nope. CODA? Never even heard of it until its nomination was announced.
If you've read any of my musings on movies in prior posts, you have likely realized that my tastes can sometimes run to the--well--not so highbrow. The trashy, the flashy, the tawdry and offbeat will always occupy a special place in my hot little heart, where there's always room for both the artistes and auteurs, the revered and revolting. Some filmmakers, like Almodovar and the late, great Federico Fellini, can be all these things at once, which is why I dearly love them! Sure, I'm a fan of "respectable" fare, too: Scorsese, Hitchcock, Inarritu, Lynch, Ang Lee, lots of these guys (and gals). But....
But, the old Godzilla series from Japan's Toho Studios? Check. Giallo films from Bava, Argento and their Italian brethren? Double check. Spaghetti westerns, Roger Corman creature features from the 50's, Shortbus, the mini-movie masterpieces of the Brothers Quay, the transgressive miscreants of John Waters' filthily funny spectacles? Check, check, check, check, check! There are other sublime cult classics like Faster, Pussycat, Kill! Kill!, Eraserhead, Bijou, Un chant d'amour, and Flesh Gordon.
And then there are Guy Maddin's outre' melodramas that make Eraserhead look like an episode of This Is Us. Not really, but, well, you get the idea. The barrel does have a bottom but these babies are nowhere near it. Neither have any of them been nominated for an Academy Award, as far as I know. There's a reason for that, make no mistake. That doesn't hinder my enjoyment of these films in the least. They may not be for everybody but they do have their fans. One man's trash is another man's treasure (and vice versa).
Owen Gleiberman and Jimmy Kimmel shouldn't cry too much over the recent Spider Man being "ignored" by the Academy Awards people. Another sequel will come out next year or the year after that--the superheroes cycle is neverending and destined to outlast styrofoam and the Great Pyramid of Egypt--so there's always hope that the next one will get lucky. In the meantime, I plan on spending the evening of March 27 in my bedroom watching an old favorite, possibly Bogie and Bacall smoking it up in The Big Sleep, or, just as likely, Beverly Garland going toe to toe with a cucumber monster from Venus in It Conquered the World. Whatever the case, I'll be happy enough to miss the red carpet antics, and the inane chatter and flat jokes of 3 (count 'em) hosts who, apparently, have yet to be announced. I wonder if Jimmy Kimmel is holding his breath on this one?
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