Tuesday, February 24, 2009
A day late, but I’m busy
Let’s wrap up Oscar season and put the ’08 movie year to rest. A few thoughts on the show and my updated and final top 10 list.
I know I say this every year, but there’s no doubt that the purpose of the Oscars is to celebrate the Oscars, in no way shape or form are they intended to celebrate the films from that year. This year’s example, all of the best song nominees were only allowed to perform 90 seconds worth of their material, yet they featured a 57-minute tribute to musicals that was about as enjoyable as being the “no, you make sure it stays in, I move him around” guy in a Hugh Hefner sex tape.
Peter Gabriel Question #1: where does Peter Gabriel refusing to perform live in retaliation for the 90-second limit rank on the “who gives a fucking shit” scale?
Peter Gabriel Question #2: when you’re Peter Gabriel and you're bald and look like Anthony Hopkins’ dick and Sledgehammer was 22 years ago – why the fuck aren’t you performing? Let me put it this way, when you’re Peter Gabriel you perform that song in a fucking toilet while Clint Howard craps on you if they ask you to.
Peter Gabriel Question #3: when you’re Peter Gabriel and you’re sitting in the stands watching John Legend gently massaging the clitoris of the song you wrote but refused to perform, do you stab yourself in the neck or the leg? I mean, are you limping out of the Kodak or do they carry you out?
Look, I like Sean Penn as much as the next guy, but does he have to be so fucking grandiose about everything? Remember his rambling tribute to Mickey Rourke that started off with “I’m proud to live in a country that elects an elegant man president.” What the fuck is he talking about? Barack is as elegant as Lando Calrissian’s moustache, no fucking doubt about it, but as a preface to Mickey fucking Rourke? Huh? I mean, in a million years could you possibly come up with a rational sentence that started with Barack Obama and ended with Mickey Rourke? Try it. I dare you. It’s not fucking possible. Barack could run Mickey Rourke over in a car on national TV and you still couldn’t come up with that sentence.
Here’s the bigger “why is Sean Penn so grandiose about fucking everything” question: does he do this in his every day life?
Waitress: More coffee, Mr. Penn?
Penn: Coffee? Do you know that in Guatemala there are literally hundreds of thousands of orphans climbing the cocao beans of Mau Mau Ploo, asking themselves the same question, when will this country elect an elegant man president, Mickey Rourke, Mickey Rourke, Rourke, Rourke, Rourke?!?!
For as much posturing as I do about my movie knowledge, there’s just a bunch of shit I don’t understand. For example, how can a movie like Slumdog beat a movie like The Dark Knight in a technical category? When Slumdog wins for sound mixing, is the Academy saying “man, I can’t believe they did that with such a small budget?” or do they actually think that the movie sounded better? That baffles me.
Okay, here’s something that bothers me. The screenwriter and actor for Milk get raucous applause during their speeches – yet the movie doesn’t win best picture. You can’t just make fucking clap noises for something and not vote for it. Not to go all Sean Penn on you and make this a bigger issue, but this is a bigger issue. All the people that were yelling approvingly for gay rights are the same ones that voted against a gay rights movie winning. That’s a little hypocritical, isn’t it? I mean, we elected an elegant man president for Christ fucking sake!
And for shits, here’s my top ten list for 2008. See you next year.
10. The Reader
9. Tropic Thunder
8. Iron Man
7. Pineapple Express
6. Vicky Christina
1. The Dark Knight
Gran Torino, The Wrestler, Step Brothers
Worst Movie of the Year:
Indiana Jones and The Crystal Cock That Took A Giant Leak on My Legacy