Oscar also-rans
As a prelude to putting up my own preferred list of Oscar nominees, I'm going to explain why I think some of the buzzed-about favorites are unworthy. So this is a sort of overrated Oscar hopefuls list.
1. Sideways. This year's Lost in Translation, it's a lot more enjoyable than little Coppola's nothing-fest, and it's a perfectly decent movie, but I don't get all the hype. Best movie of the year? Why? The story is a standard buddy road pic, crossed with a standard mid-life crisis, and the plot proceeds in a highly predictable fashion. The road adventures center around wine-tasting (snore), the protagonist is unlikeable and uninteresting, the actor playing him (Paul Giamatti) is just giving his standard Giamatti performance (his turn in American Splendor was much more fascinating), and Alexander Payne has gone way downhill into shlocky sentimental dullness since his tour-de-force in Election. A few wacky moments, some funny lines, nice work from Thomas Hayden Church -- but can anyone explain why Virginia Madsen likes this nebbish? And why she suddenly turns on him but later re-embraces him? And how you can't see this coming from a mile awhile? Snooze,..
2) The Aviator. I went into the movie wondering why Martin Scorcese, of all people, would want to make a movie about Howard Hughes, of all people. I left still wondering why. Oh, I guess it's because Howard Hughes was actually not a billionaire babboon, but a populist hero fighting oppressive government! Yech. Cate Blanchett steals the movie. DeCaprio is too studied and wooden, but the bottom line is...why should we care about bloated Hollywood auterism and the (invented) childhood psychotrauma of a rich kid?
3) Kinsey. How is it possible to make such a boring, pompous, stuffy movie about the father of sex research, the man who put the mirror up to America and let us see our own perversions? Some nice work here--particularly by Laura Linney--but Kinsey has, um, no balls. It's afraid to explore the many questions it opens up, and too interested about its bio subject, whose fiancee pronounces him "too churchy" and who remains churchy and unappealing even when documenting sex. The bow-tie guy exudes the opposite of sex appeal. And why do we need to know that he has a big cock and that he meets a guy who can jack off in ten seconds? The movie reminds me of the Hugh Hefner approach to eroticism-- all numbers and notches in the belt.
As a prelude to putting up my own preferred list of Oscar nominees, I'm going to explain why I think some of the buzzed-about favorites are unworthy. So this is a sort of overrated Oscar hopefuls list.
1. Sideways. This year's Lost in Translation, it's a lot more enjoyable than little Coppola's nothing-fest, and it's a perfectly decent movie, but I don't get all the hype. Best movie of the year? Why? The story is a standard buddy road pic, crossed with a standard mid-life crisis, and the plot proceeds in a highly predictable fashion. The road adventures center around wine-tasting (snore), the protagonist is unlikeable and uninteresting, the actor playing him (Paul Giamatti) is just giving his standard Giamatti performance (his turn in American Splendor was much more fascinating), and Alexander Payne has gone way downhill into shlocky sentimental dullness since his tour-de-force in Election. A few wacky moments, some funny lines, nice work from Thomas Hayden Church -- but can anyone explain why Virginia Madsen likes this nebbish? And why she suddenly turns on him but later re-embraces him? And how you can't see this coming from a mile awhile? Snooze,..
2) The Aviator. I went into the movie wondering why Martin Scorcese, of all people, would want to make a movie about Howard Hughes, of all people. I left still wondering why. Oh, I guess it's because Howard Hughes was actually not a billionaire babboon, but a populist hero fighting oppressive government! Yech. Cate Blanchett steals the movie. DeCaprio is too studied and wooden, but the bottom line is...why should we care about bloated Hollywood auterism and the (invented) childhood psychotrauma of a rich kid?
3) Kinsey. How is it possible to make such a boring, pompous, stuffy movie about the father of sex research, the man who put the mirror up to America and let us see our own perversions? Some nice work here--particularly by Laura Linney--but Kinsey has, um, no balls. It's afraid to explore the many questions it opens up, and too interested about its bio subject, whose fiancee pronounces him "too churchy" and who remains churchy and unappealing even when documenting sex. The bow-tie guy exudes the opposite of sex appeal. And why do we need to know that he has a big cock and that he meets a guy who can jack off in ten seconds? The movie reminds me of the Hugh Hefner approach to eroticism-- all numbers and notches in the belt.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
moya:
I'm sorry, I have no orders to bark out at you.. The only thing I need someone to do for me at the moment is buy me orange juice and tampons. Ready? Go! 
shayne:
i haven't seen the Aviator yet. I should i suppose.