Friday, March 7, 2008

Oscar Night 2008!

Ah, Oscar night. Another chance for Bjork to wear a dead carcass for a dress. Another chance for some pretentious actor (Sean Penn, I’m speaking in your specific direction) to hold pat while the band plays, like a first-grader refusing to put away their jump rope and come in from recess. Another chance for Gary Busey to kiss Jennifer Garner on the neck. And one more opportunity to see if the Oscar statue comes equipped with man-junk. (After a few good close-ups, I can confidently report that Oscar, much like Adrian Brody, Elijah Wood, and that kid who saw dead people, is a eunuch.)

I love the Oscars, and this year, I actually saw four of the five nominated films. I skipped Atonement because I’m tired of watching Stuart Townsend dress up in drag and star in British period pieces. You didn’t know Stuart Townsend and Keira Knightly were the same person? Well sheesh, I thought everybody knew that...

Since nobody but Matt Damon cares about most of the awards (there will be no mention of The Bourne Ultimatum’s THREE Oscars--Achievement in Sound Editing, Sound Mixing and Film Editing, other than to say that must be the greatest sounding movie of all times ever, ever), let’s hit the highlights.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY-->Juno, Diablo Cody
I can think of no better place to start than Diablo Cody, Hollywood’s very own pretty woman, only without those Julia Roberts, collagen soaked lips.Not since the Hillbillies moved to Beverly Hills has white trash had a better day. Actually, I jest. I’ll go ahead and ruin the surprise by saying I felt Juno was clearly the best picture, with scenes that made me run the gamut of emotions. It was kind of like Neapolitan Ice Cream, while No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood were tasty, but uni-flavored. I have to say (and this is the only time in my life you’ll hear me say this) that stripper has talent.

BEST ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE-->Tilda Swinton, Michael Clayton
Swinton’s the tallest ginger I’ve ever seen. She was cold, anxious, and by the end of it, ready to kill the man who threatened her powerful position and potentially even more powerful future. No, I’m not talking about Hillary Clinton after Iowa (though what she did to Obama before the Texas and Ohio primaries might as well have been attempted murder. "No, I don’t think he’s a radical Muslim undercover." Wink wink.) I must admit I thought Cate Blanchett would get this for portraying a man, Bob Dylan in I’m Not There. The clips looked amazing.

Stuart-Keira was jealous.

BEST ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE-->Javier Bardiem, No Country for Old Men.
Anton Chigurh, the bowl cut-sporting, shotgun-wielding psychopath, was delightfully logical in his murderous ways. Imagine if Dick Cheney was 40 years younger, Spanish, and had an unlimited supply of hunting buddies. That’s the only way I could see someone have more fun killing innocent people. Tom Wilkinson, from Michael Clayton, was the only other nominee I saw from this category. If you want to duplicate his performance, just drink 20 cups of coffee, muss your hair about, and say the following:
“Blah, blah, blah, I am Shiva the destroyer, blah, blah, blah, I know everything about (insert wild conspiracy theory). Blah, blah, blah.”

Can you tell that I’m not wild about this movie?

Ooh, ooh, I almost forgot Bardiem’s closing speech which was the mascot for the night’s No Oscars for American Actors theme:

Mama esto es para ti. Esto es para tus abuelos, para tus padres, Rafael y Matilde. Esto es para los comicos de Espana que han traido la dignidad y el orgullo a nuestro oficio. Esto es para Espana. Y esto es para todos vosotros.

Translation: Mama, this is for you. This is for your grandparents, this is for your parents, Rafael and Matilda. This is for the actors of Spain that have brought dignity and pride to our craft. And this is for all of you.
Thanks, Javier. I appreciate that.

I had a great joke about NAFTA until I remembered he was Spanish, not Mexican. But...can I tell it anyway? Promise you won’t be mad? Promise?

’Kay.

Well, at least one good thing came from NAFTA! Ha, ha, ha...ha...ha?

Whatever.

BEST ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE-->Marion Cotillard, La Vie en Rose.
Typical Oscar formula. Take beautiful person. Add makeup, new hairline, off-putting eyebrows. Age and marinate in tears. This is me not impressed.
*
This---------------------------->Plus This-------------------->Equals This


And you can stop calling me ignorant. I do watch foreign films, with subtitles. EVEN in the theater. Need I remind anyone that Selma Hayek went from being just another piece of cinema eye candy to Oscar worthy because she donned some funky eyebrows and a mustache in Frida.

BEST ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE-->Daniel Day-Lewis, There Will Be Blood
This man turns me into James Lipton, from Inside the Actor’s Studio. Seriously, all I can do is gush about the Irishman. (But I mean really Mr. Lipton, Martin Lawrence? Martin Lawrence? From Big Momma’s House? What, were none of the Wayans brothers available that night? But I digress...) Have you seen him in Gangs of New York? When Danny boy was nominated for Best Actor in 2002? Well, this was better. There’s a reason he only does a movie every six or seven years. He BECOMES the role. He channels the part and there is no more Daniel Day Lewis, only his character. He’s totally believable as anyone.

He’s even better than when Bush played the war hero in the 2004 election. Sure, during the Vietnam War his daddy snared him a spot in the National Guard so that he could protect the United States from the ever present threat of a Mexican invasion, but did you see him on that aircraft carrier? Kerry could’ve done ten tours in Vietnam. It wouldn’t have mattered. Bush became the hero.

Daniel’s like that, only his performances don’t cause wars and recessions.

Now, I’m skipping best director because I feel like the director of the Best Picture should win Best Director. Just seems like common sense to me. Of course, this is Hollywood, where they make movies like Norbit, Battlefield Earth, and give Julia Roberts an Oscar for showing her boobs. (Does anything show the Academy’s chauvinistic tendencies more than that? Trying to figure out why she deserved an Oscar is even more confusing than deciding which one of Forest Whitaker’s lazy eyes is the one to look at. I swear to God, sometimes I think the Academy is just a Mardi Gras-balcony, full of inebriated, male college students. And they’ve got way too many beads.)

"Forest, are you checking out my rack?"
"Part of me is."
*
BEST PICTURE-->No Country for Old Men
Best picture is a tough one for me. No Country was brilliant, and passed the test of being even better the second time I saw it. I consider it a snap-shot movie, like Pulp Fiction or Eastern Promises. You look in on the characters for a while, then the credits roll. Sometimes you’re satisfied with the plot (Pulp Fiction), sometimes you feel short changed (Eastern Promises). With No Country, I was kind of like Freddie Mercury, somewhere in between.

There Will Be Blood was a film with breathtaking cinematography and told the story of a character that seemed limitless in his complexity. However, there were some establishing shots that had me wondering if they ran out of money before they hired an editor.
Because I have doubts about the greatness of this film if Mr. Lewis had not turned in one of the greatest performances since Al Pacino portrayed Michael Corleone, I have to rule it out.

Michael Clayton. Yawn. I found the movie more pretentious than Tina Fey’s pro Hillary rant on Saturday Night Live (I didn’t even know SNL was still on the air, much less shouting "bitch is the new black" from the fake news desk, classy). The flick was wildly boring, and overlaid with a score that was so overbearing, I considered watching the film in subtitles on mute. But yes, in order to appease my mother, I will acknowledge that I see her point when she stated that, “George Clooney is about the best thing I’ve ever looked at.”

Juno, the little movie that could. I laughed, I almost cried (for the lady readers who enjoy my blog, I did tear up. For the guys, I didn’t even come close. Insert Hillary wink). To me the movie nailed my number one requirement. Give me a story where 99% of the characters are dynamic. Let me see them happy, sad, funny, jealous, smug, vulnerable, likeable and annoying. And even though I’m a happy ending kind of guy, the resolution the film delivered was heart-warming (yes, I said “heart-warming,” I know I’m lame. Leave me alone) but still realistic. The music was seemingly matched up to the scenes by some all-knowing, divine force, and EVERYBODY in the movies played their part flawlessly. None of them tried to do too much. My only complaint was one teenage girl’s line, “Really, honest to blog?” But that’s a small price to pay for the story that was told.

God, I love Oscar night.

Monday, March 3, 2008

Revenge of the Horse

I’m tired of being gouged by bloodthirsty insurance providers. If it’s not my health insurance biting a chunk out of my wallet, it’s the auto parasites over at State Farm. For instance, I have to pay the Farm Bureau $25 a year for the privilege of purchasing health insurance through them (to the tune of $140 a month, with riders on the only medications I take regularly. And no, it’s not methadone).

What in the holy hell do I need a membership to the FARM Bureau for? And then it hit me. Maybe the membership could get me a discount on horse feed.

Eureka.

I can buy a horse. This would negate the need for a car and for auto insurance! (I don’t think the law requires Mr. Ed insurance. Perhaps I’ll call Lindsay Lohan and find out. I’m fairly certain she’s not allowed to drive motorized vehicles anymore.)

As an added bonus, I can use my horse, who I’ve tentatively named Sarah Jessica Parker, to take revenge on all those Devil worshippers who park too closely in shopping mall parking lots. Finally, those who believe their luxury SUV also comes with a pass to park over the lines will have their comeuppance.

Imagine their horror when they return to their Escalade or Navigator and find that big Sarah has taken a mighty, massive, meaty Equus shit all over their car. Picture their rage as I calmly explain that, if only they hadn’t parked so closely, their car would be free of horse excrement.

And I’ll be free of these sycophantic insurance “providers.”


Get em' Sarah!

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