I was making my way back home from Boston earlier tonight and — per usual — got stuck in some traffic in the not-so-great state of Connecticut. So I ended up missing most of the Oscar show. But apparently they just went ahead and gave out the awards without me.
Cool friends, guys.
You likely already know what happened, but we may as well give you the full list below. And, no, it’s not a misprint — Sandra Bullock now has an Oscar. I never bothered to see The Blind Side, but I’m guessing I will always prefer her character in Speed. Less white guilt and more bus driving. What can I say? I’m a sucker for protagonistas who lost their license for … let me finish … speeding and are then serendipitously tasked with jumping a 15-ton automobile over a highway gap in order to save the lives of a dozen of her fellow Los Angelenos. Call me old-fashioned.
Obviously, the even bigger surprise was that Avatar didn’t take home many statues, which was odd, but not something that I will shed many tears over even though I think The Hurt Locker was too flawed as a film (see: unnecessary final 15 minutes) to out-rank the technological and industry-changing achievement of James Cameron’s opus. This will probably really, really weird in 10 years when 2D movies don’t even exist anymore and our schools are no longer teaching kids that the Iraq War was a conflict so much as it was The Louisiana Purchase, Part Deux.
Whoa.
Sorry about that. I swear I was on my down to jokeville there and somehow took a left at political. Won’t happen again.
Most importantly, here’s the new, longer trailer for Iron Man 2. The person in the red and gold suit is for sure more important than talking about the people who won gold statues. (trailer via Super Hero Hype)
I was sold anyway. But, man … look at all those guys in superhero suits with guys. Yes, please.
The 82nd Academy Awards are tonight, and the best, brightest and beautiful of Hollywood will gather yet again to honor the year that was in cinema. Below are my predictions for who will win the hardware tonight.
Best Actress – Gabourey Sidibe, Precious (IF THERE WILL BE A SURPRISE ON OSCAR NIGHT THIS WILL BE IT. If all goes to predictabilty, congratulations, Sandra Bullock.)
Best Supporting Actor – Christoph Waltz, Inglourious Basterds
Best Supporting Actress – Mo’Nique, Precious
Best Original Screenplay – Inglourious Basterds, Quentin Tarantino
Best Adapted Screenplay – Up in the Air, Jason Reitman
Animated Feature – Up
Art Direction – Avatar
Cinematography – Avatar
Costume Design – The Young Victoria
Documentary Feature – The Cove
Film Editing – Avatar
Foreign Language Film – The White Ribbon
Makeup – The Young Victoria
Original Score – Up
Original Song – “The Weary Kind,” Crazy Heart
Sound Editing – The Hurt Locker
Sound Mixing – The Hurt Locker
Visual Effects – Avatar
(Disclaimer: I have no clue whatsoever on these final three.)
Documentary Short – The Last Truck: Closing of a GM Plant
[Editor's Note: Please welcome Tim Adkins to the Gladiator Movies team. You will hopefully be seeing more from him around these parts going forward and can catch more of his writing over at Backwards from 30.]
On Monday, an hour after word first began circulating that Kobe Bryant may end his two-week injury-cation from the Los Angeles Lakers lineup to suit up for Tuesday’s game against the Memphis Grizzlies, I received this text message: “I would like to have date night on Tues.”
The Liberian Girl who sent that text did not know the status of Kobe’s health, but she does know exactly how high the Lakers rank on my Priority List. Then again, she also knows where she rates on that same list.
So … on Tuesday night, as the game started in Memphis, I slid a pair of 3D glasses up the bridge of my nose in anticipation of my second screening of Avatar. The Liberian Girl burrowed into my left rib and nibbled on Nerds. She hadn’t seen the film yet and had finally caved to all the buzz about it. (After we ate a proper dinner first, of course.)
At this point, what more can you really say about Avatar?
The mythology of the film has been shredded, diced and gnarled by critics from all sides. “Why does the white man gotta save the natives again?” “Why is capitalism always the villain?” “How did we survive three hours without a single nipple slip?” (Whoops. That last one is more pornographic than political. But those two disciplines are so alike that who can really tell the difference?)
The story (and this won’t spoil anything if you’ve not seen it yet) is underwhelming. The characters are reduced, ironically, to flat caricatures. The dialogue is the height of cliché. There is more than one nagging continuity question. And, most alarmingly, there’s no actual nudity despite the fact that those barely-clothed, lithe blue bodies dance through the jungle for two-thirds of the flick.
All of which is to be expected.
Avatar is nearly three hours long. But it moves. It jukes through a brilliantly imagined world. It sprints through a simple narrative designed purely to provide back-up for a MASSIVE creative accomplishment.
There are so many teams of people who collaborated on the film that you need a second mouse to scroll through the whole cast and crew list on IMDb. If you know anything about the process of trying to make a film, the more people involved, the more likely it is that something about the finished product could suck. Long chains do tend to have lots of slack.
So if you’re spending eight kajillion dollars to invent a whole new way of making movies, something has to give, no? If you’re going to get anything really, really right, you need to conjure up all the genius your acres of collaborators can muster to make sure the world you create together is jaw-dropping. Anything else — like the story — should probably be executed as simply as possible. That compromise, regardless of what nonlethal stereotypes it furthers or what agendas it ham-handedly espouses, can ultimately be forgiven.
Upon exiting the theater, the Liberian Girl evaluated the film with a fitting eloquence: “The story was not amazing, but everything else was.”
As those words dribbled out of her mouth, my phone vibrated with a slew of new text messages about the outcome of the Lakers game. We slipped into the bar next to the movie theater in time for ESPN to show us that Kobe’s game-clinching shot for the Lakers had been just as precise as her evaluation of Avatar.
The other night, I watched Fight Club and the haiku scene spoke to me:
First off, it emphasizes the mundane routines that most of us trudge through each day, but more poignantly, seventeen syllables really sum up the theme of the movie. That said, I figured I’d go through this year’s Best Picture nominees and see if I could capture each one’s essence through haiku:
We don't always review movies, but when we do, we often give them numeric values to let you know what we think. Those numbers roughly mean the following:
10
One of the best movies I've ever seen. If you don't at least sort of like it, I probably just lost some respect for you as a person.
9
Great, great stuff. Your film-watching career can't be complete if you don't see this.
8
You should definitely see this. One of the better films of the year.
7
I enjoyed it. If you see it, you see it, but won't change your life either way.
6
I wasn't upset that I watched this, but it's certainly not great. Watchable if you're on a plane and don't have a book, but wouldn't go out of your way. Meh.
5
Hot garbage, entirely forgettable and a total waste of time. Never watch this.
4
Epically, memorably terrible.
3
You cannot be serious. Maybe the worst thing I've ever seen. Absolutely staggering. Unreal. I loathe everyone involved with this.
