Oscar Talk

It’s official. The biggest lunchbag letdown in showbiz has announced its contenders. Who’s the little gold guy gonna go home with? And does anybody still care?

Yep, it’s Oscar time. So wake me when it’s over.

The Academy Awards has lost its spark. Not that this is news to anyone, but it’s sort of sad nonetheless. Will I still tune in? OF COURSE! But I’ll be bracing myself for the inevitable disappointment. Not because of the cheesy song ‘n dance numbers. And not because of the overall earnestness. And definitely not because of the below-the-line-people’s speeches. In fact, I kinda like those – especially when they thank their families and dead relatives. Those speeches, the death montage and all the tear-jerking sucky stuff I kinda dig.

No, the real reason for the letdown is because every other major award has already been given out, so there really are no surprises. DGA’s, PGA’s, SAG’s. Every critic and their circles. And of course the Golden Globes. It’s like unofficial insider trading to determine who will win the official Oscar race. In fact, nowadays the only way to win an Oscar pool is to correctly guess the short film and documentary categories. For everything else, the work is done.

Still, it’s exciting to hear about Dreamgirls. The most nominations of all. Sure they missed the biggies, but let’s face it, it’s all about Effie. Always has been, always will be. No wonder audiences burst into spontaneous applause when Jenny Hudson belts it out. She’s spectacular. So much so that when asked “Have you seen Dreamgirls?” the only possible answer I could give is “how many times?” (OK, that’s a bit of a spice. Despite my best intentions to go again and again and again, I’ve still seen it but once. But hey, I have the cd – movie and play – in the car. It’s the next best thing to being there. What? There’s lots of flicks out there. Who has time for traders?!)

Looks like Marty Scorcese will finally get his Oscar. Not because The Departed is his best work, but because his time has come. And gone. And come again. And gone. And come again. The Academy loves doing that. Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman, anyone? I liked The Departed and I LOVED Marky Mark in it. But best picture? By the end the entire theatre was laughing – out loud laughing – as the body count rose.

Best Actor race has Mr Whitaker’s name all over it. Haven’t seen Last King O’ Scotland. And I don’t really want to. Maybe because I read the book years ago. For work. Back when I used to work. And I passed on it. Didn’t think it was a movie. Oops. But he seems like a nice enough fellow, and that droopy eye always gets me, so Go Forest, Go.

Yes, I know it’s Helen Mirren’s year, but if I had a vote, and if it counted, it would be for Dame Judi. Always. Personally, I think Ms Mirren is a TV actress. An awesome TV actress, but I never can get past Prime Suspect. I also think The Queen is a TV movie. A very good TV movie, but a TV movie all the same.

But what do I know?

I know that Little Miss Sunshine was fantastic. And that Sasha Baron Cohen was robbed (robbed!). And the saying “yah man” in a South African accent is enough to score a person an Oscar nom. And that Ellen is hosting. I also know that I’m rooting for Babel – in every category. (Even the best supporting actress ones that it so deserves but will never get. Don’t tell). And I know that no matter how you slice it, the best song demos always bite. Big time.

Oh who am I kidding? It’s the Oscars….and it’s all about the outfits!