Monday, February 28, 2005
I generally think most blogs about the Oscars are full of self importance, this one is no different. It's what I talked about over pizza at 4 am at Freeman's on Sunday and it's what I watched on television last night, so it makes sense to write about it.
It started off with someone (name withheld) declaring their hatred for deaf people on the big and small screen; "I just hate the way they talk!"
This reminded me of this :
1997 Jack Nicholson, "As Good As It Gets"-obsessive compulsive disorder
1996 Geoffrey Rush, "Shine"-undisclosed mental illness
1995 Nicolas Cage, "Leaving Las Vegas"-alcoholism
1994 Tom Hanks, "Forrest Gump"-undisclosed mentally disability
1993 Tom Hanks, "Philadelphia"-HIV positive/Aids
1992 Al Pacino, "Scent of a Woman (1992)"-blindness
1991 Anthony Hopkins, "The Silence of the Lambs"-antisocial personality disorder
1990 Jeremy Irons, "Reversal of Fortune"
1989 Daniel Day-Lewis, "My Left Foot"-cerebral palsy
1988 Dustin Hoffman, "Rain Man"-autism
Essentially 8 of 10 the characters portrayed were 'afflicted' in some way, either mental or physical afflictions/illnesses/disabilities. Hollywood loves a story about someone who overcomes great odds to prove that they fit in society ("cut and clip what doesn't fit"). They especially love it if this person is male. Unfortunately Hollywood only loves it when these characters appear on the screen. How many mentally handicapped actors had roles in "I am Sam"? What about "Radio"? Oh sure 'they' can teach us how to parent or how to win, but they definitely can't act.
Throughout the day I had read a couple of opinion pieces about how Chris Rock benefitted from a double stander when he interviewed black patrons outside a movie theatre about which movies they had seen that year. Almost none of them had seen Sideways, Closer, the Aviator, Million Dollar Baby or Finding Neverland. Almost none of those movies have any major black characters (the exception being Million Dollar Baby). Most of the patrons named White Chicks and the Chronicles of Riddick as movies they had enjoyed that year. One opinion piece in particular complained that if Steve Martin did the same thing as the host of the Oscars, he'd be accused of racism for pointing out the inferiority of the choices of black moviegoers. That wasn't the point. The point that was being made was that the Oscars is still a mostly white affair that ignores populist films. It's an awards show, it's supposed to be judgemental, but it in no way represents what the majority of people paid to see. That's the point Rock was trying to make, he wasn't trying to point out that Black people have no taste, he was trying to point that tastes differ.
I really enjoy awards shows for what they are, what I really get satisfaction from is the comments people make while watching these shows. Kate McKenna was dishing out some pretty good ones Sunday night :
Award Winner : "Like everyone else I have been practicing this acceptance speech in the bathtub since I was 8 years old"
Kate : "Yeah if by practicing the acceptance speech you mean 'unh unh unh uhhhh' (makes masturbatory gesture) then yeah!"
Kate : "Do you guys think that Martin Scorese looks like Tobias (Rochmann)?"
Me : "Uh maybe, I guess it's possible, similar glasses."
Kathy : "Kate didn't you say he looked like Malcolm X too?"
(Tobias, everyone agreed that you look like Malcolm X or at least Denzel Washington playing Malcolm X).
While Yo Yo Ma was performing
Kate : Have you guys heard about this amazing inner city program that Yo Yo Ma has launched in Brooklyn?
Us : No, what is it?
Kate : He's looking to recruit and train the next generation of great musicians.
Us : Oh wow, neat.
Kate : He's found a new protege; Yo Ma Ma!
I mean in print form that's not even terribly funny, but Kate was pretty stoic and serious throughout the entire delivery. Maybe I'm naive. I think I just appreciate grade 7 jokes.
Every year the Oscars presents a montage of its members who passed away that year. It's nostalgic, everyone gets a tear in their eye thinking about Ossie Davis and Christopher Reeve in the roles we loved them in. Where was Spalding Gray? I don't mean mean literally, he's dead, where was in the montage? Gray died in January of 2004, but his body wasn't found until March 2004 which was after last year's Oscars. How come noone saluted Spalding Gray? It might be that Gray committed suicide after a lengthy bout of depression. Hollywood likes depressed characters, just not depressed actors.
Jerks.
It started off with someone (name withheld) declaring their hatred for deaf people on the big and small screen; "I just hate the way they talk!"
This reminded me of this :
1997 Jack Nicholson, "As Good As It Gets"-obsessive compulsive disorder
1996 Geoffrey Rush, "Shine"-undisclosed mental illness
1995 Nicolas Cage, "Leaving Las Vegas"-alcoholism
1994 Tom Hanks, "Forrest Gump"-undisclosed mentally disability
1993 Tom Hanks, "Philadelphia"-HIV positive/Aids
1992 Al Pacino, "Scent of a Woman (1992)"-blindness
1991 Anthony Hopkins, "The Silence of the Lambs"-antisocial personality disorder
1990 Jeremy Irons, "Reversal of Fortune"
1989 Daniel Day-Lewis, "My Left Foot"-cerebral palsy
1988 Dustin Hoffman, "Rain Man"-autism
Essentially 8 of 10 the characters portrayed were 'afflicted' in some way, either mental or physical afflictions/illnesses/disabilities. Hollywood loves a story about someone who overcomes great odds to prove that they fit in society ("cut and clip what doesn't fit"). They especially love it if this person is male. Unfortunately Hollywood only loves it when these characters appear on the screen. How many mentally handicapped actors had roles in "I am Sam"? What about "Radio"? Oh sure 'they' can teach us how to parent or how to win, but they definitely can't act.
Throughout the day I had read a couple of opinion pieces about how Chris Rock benefitted from a double stander when he interviewed black patrons outside a movie theatre about which movies they had seen that year. Almost none of them had seen Sideways, Closer, the Aviator, Million Dollar Baby or Finding Neverland. Almost none of those movies have any major black characters (the exception being Million Dollar Baby). Most of the patrons named White Chicks and the Chronicles of Riddick as movies they had enjoyed that year. One opinion piece in particular complained that if Steve Martin did the same thing as the host of the Oscars, he'd be accused of racism for pointing out the inferiority of the choices of black moviegoers. That wasn't the point. The point that was being made was that the Oscars is still a mostly white affair that ignores populist films. It's an awards show, it's supposed to be judgemental, but it in no way represents what the majority of people paid to see. That's the point Rock was trying to make, he wasn't trying to point out that Black people have no taste, he was trying to point that tastes differ.
I really enjoy awards shows for what they are, what I really get satisfaction from is the comments people make while watching these shows. Kate McKenna was dishing out some pretty good ones Sunday night :
Award Winner : "Like everyone else I have been practicing this acceptance speech in the bathtub since I was 8 years old"
Kate : "Yeah if by practicing the acceptance speech you mean 'unh unh unh uhhhh' (makes masturbatory gesture) then yeah!"
Kate : "Do you guys think that Martin Scorese looks like Tobias (Rochmann)?"
Me : "Uh maybe, I guess it's possible, similar glasses."
Kathy : "Kate didn't you say he looked like Malcolm X too?"
(Tobias, everyone agreed that you look like Malcolm X or at least Denzel Washington playing Malcolm X).
While Yo Yo Ma was performing
Kate : Have you guys heard about this amazing inner city program that Yo Yo Ma has launched in Brooklyn?
Us : No, what is it?
Kate : He's looking to recruit and train the next generation of great musicians.
Us : Oh wow, neat.
Kate : He's found a new protege; Yo Ma Ma!
I mean in print form that's not even terribly funny, but Kate was pretty stoic and serious throughout the entire delivery. Maybe I'm naive. I think I just appreciate grade 7 jokes.
Every year the Oscars presents a montage of its members who passed away that year. It's nostalgic, everyone gets a tear in their eye thinking about Ossie Davis and Christopher Reeve in the roles we loved them in. Where was Spalding Gray? I don't mean mean literally, he's dead, where was in the montage? Gray died in January of 2004, but his body wasn't found until March 2004 which was after last year's Oscars. How come noone saluted Spalding Gray? It might be that Gray committed suicide after a lengthy bout of depression. Hollywood likes depressed characters, just not depressed actors.
Jerks.
When I lived at Bloomfield I lived by the adage, 'If you throw a party you must try to be the most entertaining person in attendence'. This explains why I wore Annette's dress that was much too small while Gerry announced me to the partygoers as the lady of the house or why I dressed up in the Michael Jackson snowsuit left behind by a former resident and danced on top of the fridge with Philip.
Last night I may have forgotten that I moved out of Bloomfield in September. I was conversing in the kitchen and attempting to act as thought I was mad, essentially I was showing off. In order to fully demonstrate my rage I picked up a mug and smashed it on the countertop. It wasn't the first thing I'd smashed, dented, or threw at Bloomfield; a window, a glass saucepan we were melting snow in, the floor in the basement.
I realized I didn't live there anymore and didn't possess a carte blanche for chaos once David entered the room. David moved into Bloomfield after I moved out. He became the new Nansea who had become the new Faith who had become the new Jeffrey. He did not seem pleased that I had been making a right royal mess of the countertop.
I reacted quickly and explained to him that if all possible I would go back in time to a point where I was still living at the household, not care about the mess, continue on with the party, go to bed when the guests left, wake up in the morning and attend to the mess.
He gave me look like I was full of shit.
"Or I could just start picking up these shards of mug now, I guess"
Last night I may have forgotten that I moved out of Bloomfield in September. I was conversing in the kitchen and attempting to act as thought I was mad, essentially I was showing off. In order to fully demonstrate my rage I picked up a mug and smashed it on the countertop. It wasn't the first thing I'd smashed, dented, or threw at Bloomfield; a window, a glass saucepan we were melting snow in, the floor in the basement.
I realized I didn't live there anymore and didn't possess a carte blanche for chaos once David entered the room. David moved into Bloomfield after I moved out. He became the new Nansea who had become the new Faith who had become the new Jeffrey. He did not seem pleased that I had been making a right royal mess of the countertop.
I reacted quickly and explained to him that if all possible I would go back in time to a point where I was still living at the household, not care about the mess, continue on with the party, go to bed when the guests left, wake up in the morning and attend to the mess.
He gave me look like I was full of shit.
"Or I could just start picking up these shards of mug now, I guess"
