Monday, February 23, 2009
Aftermath
I hadn't really planned on writing anything else about the Oscars. Since I had so little interest in any of the nominated films or actors this year, I figured I'd just toss of my little preview and be done with it. But then I saw the show. And my eyes, frankly, are still burning. I'm fairly convinced that it managed to actually somehow make me hate all movies. I think they could probably put out a buddy comedy costarring Jesus and R. Kelly tomorrow and I wouldn't want to go. I'd be too afraid Hugh Jackman would show up and sing, frankly.
I have to admit I was skeptical about Jackman from the beginning. I mean, apart from strapping on muttonchops and a couple of pairs of scissors to play that beloved literary figure Wolverine, he's mainly known as a song and dance man. And what is it that people most hate about the Oscars? The production numbers. Whether it's a tap dance salute to Holocaust dramas or the Osmonds' exploration of funky street style, it's bound to be awful. So Jackman's decision to double down on awkward warbling was particularly troubling. And I honestly believe that Anne Hathaway should have had her nomination stripped solely for playing along.
Oh, and the awkward monologues from past winners. Horrifying. Was the idea to punish this year's acting nominees by forcing them to smile awkwardly for two minutes while Whoopi Goldberg tells them they're awesome because they also played nuns just like she once did? Because I'd much rather hear what Alan Arkin thinks of any given performance than, oh I don't know, actually see a little bit of that performance. I honestly think I am suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome.
I hadn't really planned on writing anything else about the Oscars. Since I had so little interest in any of the nominated films or actors this year, I figured I'd just toss of my little preview and be done with it. But then I saw the show. And my eyes, frankly, are still burning. I'm fairly convinced that it managed to actually somehow make me hate all movies. I think they could probably put out a buddy comedy costarring Jesus and R. Kelly tomorrow and I wouldn't want to go. I'd be too afraid Hugh Jackman would show up and sing, frankly.
I have to admit I was skeptical about Jackman from the beginning. I mean, apart from strapping on muttonchops and a couple of pairs of scissors to play that beloved literary figure Wolverine, he's mainly known as a song and dance man. And what is it that people most hate about the Oscars? The production numbers. Whether it's a tap dance salute to Holocaust dramas or the Osmonds' exploration of funky street style, it's bound to be awful. So Jackman's decision to double down on awkward warbling was particularly troubling. And I honestly believe that Anne Hathaway should have had her nomination stripped solely for playing along.
Oh, and the awkward monologues from past winners. Horrifying. Was the idea to punish this year's acting nominees by forcing them to smile awkwardly for two minutes while Whoopi Goldberg tells them they're awesome because they also played nuns just like she once did? Because I'd much rather hear what Alan Arkin thinks of any given performance than, oh I don't know, actually see a little bit of that performance. I honestly think I am suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome.
