Sunday, 26 February 2012

Fear and loathing at the Oscars


I don't know about you, but I'm already sick of the Oscars.

Brad and Angie. George and the girl wrestler. All those stupid movies about Paris. Silent. Black and white.

Who the hell cares?

Scott and I watched The Tree of Life last night and I found it ridiculous. It was like tuning into a period piece only to be interrupted by the Discovery Channel.

And it's been nominated for about a gazillion awards!

Just so Brad and Sean Penn could get paid handsomely for what amounts to a couple of lame cameos.

Sheesh.

I am looking forward to Billy Crystal.

Hopefully, he can save this barfest.

The whole preoccupation with George Clooney and Brad Pitt puzzles me. Sure, they're okay looking, but they would make any movie made in 3D look 2D, they are so non-dimensional.

Some people call these nuanced performances.

I say these two guys phone in their performances.

The Artist is about to win Best Picture yet it hasn't been able to translate into ticket sales. Hardly anybody's seen it. Even if it does win a bevy of Oscars, hardly anyone will see it, not even on Netflix.

Why? Because most people go to the cinema to watch stuff blow up in color with lots of Dolby digital noise effects. With The Artist, I'm thinking people can multitask by flipping in their ear buds to listen to Green Day. After all, this is a silent joint; they wouldn't miss a thing.

Maybe I'm shallow, but I'm betting so are most of the rest of the movie going public. They want to see knockers and full frontal male nudity or they want to see Avatars schwinging from vines.

The year Avatar was beaten out of Best Picture by The Hurt Locker, nobody saw The Hurt Locker. Lots of folks saw Avatar.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science has lost touch with what people like to see.

Adam Sandler just set the record for the greatest number of Razzies but he also won the Favorite Male Actor of the Year statue from the People's Choice.

He sells a shit load of movie tickets, too.

Don't see his name at the Oscars.

All I can say is I hope they at least bring out that cute little dog.

Maybe he can find the audience's pulse.

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