Waste of Ink
Oscars:
Maybe not so beautiful
I believe it was Lester Burnham of American Beauty
who said it best: "Look at me. Jerking off in the shower. This will be
the highlight of my day." Yep, this pretty much sums up this year's Academy
Awards. Hollywood's big chance to stroke its ego has come and gone.
Oscar night is the one evening of the year when we get to be reminded
that celebrities are infinitely more important to the world than you or
I. Why, I can't even remember the last time someone came up to me outside
of Taco Bell and asked, "Who are you wearing?"
But the Oscars are about more than watching beautiful actresses strutting
around with fake boobs and enough jewelry around their necks to raise
several thousand children above the poverty level. It's about recognizing
the films that made the greatest artistic achievement. Or at least the
ones that had enough money behind them to get noticed.
Every year there are several inexplicable omissions in the Oscar
nominations. The most glaring example in this year's crop had to be the
lack of nomination for Star Wars' Jar Jar Binks.
This is nothing more than another example of the Academy's constant shunning
of floppy-eared computer generated aliens based on racial stereotypes.
Adam Sandler was denied a nomination for Big Daddy,
undoubtedly his most emotionally wrenching role since Happy
Gilmore. Heather Donahue's moving and snot-filled performance
in the Blair Witch Project was also snubbed. And
the controversial subject matter of Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo
might have cost it the Best Picture statue.
Oscar fashion always receives a lot of attention, but for some reason
the focus is always on the ladies. Supporting Actress winner Angelina
Jolie turned heads with her uncanny resemblance to Wednesday Addams. Other
standouts include Cameron Diaz's breasts, which oddly were not nominated
for Best Actress in a Supporting Role.
However this was also an exciting year for Oscar fashion among the
males in attendance. Oscar host Billy Crystal wore a black tuxedo. Best
Actor nominee Denzel Washington wore a black tuxedo. Nominee Haley Joel
Osment of The Sixth Sense wore a tiny black tuxedo.
But the winners of the Oscar fashion crown are South Park creators
Trey Parker and Matt Stone, who dazzled the paparazzi with their style
and charm. Stone was ravishing in the pink vintage dress Gwyneth Paltrow
made famous last year, while Parker was feisty and sexy in the cut-down-to-you-know-where
emerald gown last worn by Jennifer Lopez.
Of course, the most important part of the evening was the awards
themselves. Oscar night was predicted to be an exciting horse race between
the two most nominated films, American Beauty
and The Cider House Rules.
There were other notable films that didn't receive as many nominations,
but I won't try to force my opinions down your throat (ahem, Fight
Club, Eyes Wide Shut, Magnolia, The Straight Story, Being John Malkovich).
My friend went to see The Cider House Rules
because he thought it would be an insightful look into fraternity life.
It is actually about ether sniffing or abortion or some other important
social issue. I'm not really sure, but I came out of the film wishing
for some ether of my own.
American Beauty was a classic feel-good flick
about a middle-aged loser with pedophilic fantasies, his adulterous money-hungry
wife, his angst-filled eye-rolling daughter and her pot dealing philosopher
boyfriend. Just the sort of film the Academy loves, in other words. As
you probably know, it won a buttload of awards including Best Picture.
Sure, I saw American Beauty six times and
cried six times for at least six different reasons. Sure, it helped me
through a difficult time in my life and reaffirmed the existence of beauty
underneath the apparent ugliness of the world. Sure, it affected me in
ways that I didn't think a piece of celluloid could. It was my favorite
film, but was it the best?
Art is subjective. The same movie can mean vastly different things
to different people. Art can't be judged in terms of this being better
than that. It has to do with how it makes people feel, what it makes them
think.
So give yourself a break and enjoy a good film this week. Screw the
Academy. It doesn't matter if you know every camera shot in Citizen
Kane by heart or if you can't wait to see that rumored remake
of Dirty Dancing starring Britney Spears and Ricky
Martin. Just go and get a movie you like and enjoy yourself.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go take a shower.
Keefe, who is more than willing to sell all his lofty
ideals (and his soul) for a screenplay deal, can be reached for comment
at duckbill@frognet.net. Waste of Ink appears on Thursdays.
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