Sheepish Admittances

I like pretty dresses. I even, on occasion, like to watch celebrities, with remarkable bodies and perfect hair, wear pretty dresses. I also like to watch celebrities, wearing pretty dresses, give and receive statues of little gold men.

Yep, that's right folks. Verified movie snob though I may be, I still get a kick out of watching the Oscars. And, I know, I know-- I do, indeed, feel sheepish that I'm not scoffing at the whole ritzy ritual and rigmarole because it's so self-congratulatory and because it's nothing but Hollywood trying desperately to affirm its tenuous grasp on artistic credibility and because, really, it's a venue in which ridiculous big-budget hackjobs (did someone say Titanic?) get to win prizes just because they plundered bajillions of dollars out of the pockets of underinformed moviegoers--underinformed in terms of the theatrical options available to them. Yes, I do realize I'm throwing my credibility into question here when I say that I still think this red-carpet paparazzi-fest serves a purpose other than keeping Kathy Griffin and Joan Rivers employed.

Part of this purpose is to elevate the visibility of certain little films that are a little outside mainstream tastes. For example, last year, Amy Adams got nominated for Junebug, which was a real little gem. I'd been lucky enough to see this movie in a theatre well before nominations came out and could smugly declare that, indeed, the film was worthy of the nod while everyone else was asking "June-what?" See? I'm a really film-snob after all. But my point is, it's a damn good movie and, without the notice of The Academy, surely my talking it up would have done very little to increase its viewership.

And then there's the fact that sometimes The Academy really does get it right-- and they manage to recognize the right people for real artistic accomplishment. Last year, there were no finer performances than Philip Seymour Hoffman's Truman Capote. Truly. In my opinion, that movie should have won best picture-- it was better than the slightly maudlin Brokeback Mountain and it was sure as hell better than the beat-you-over-the-head-with-its-message Crash. But that's neither here nor there when Hoffman's fearless and vulnerable performance got it just desserts. And that's nice, you know? It's just nice when talented people get recognized.

But this year, with the ink on the new crop of nominations still wet, well, I'm afraid I might, at long last, be losing faith in the tradition. While a few nods were dead on, I'm just a little baffled by some of the others.

So, first, let me start with what I think is good: Unfortunately, I haven't been able to see as many of the nominees this year as I was last (I miss you, Jon), but I hear that Ryan Gosling is pretty fantastic in Half Nelson, a little indie with minimal buzz so far, but he'll never win. He's Amy Adams all over again. A couple of years ago,he was also pretty great in The Believer , another good movie of which no one's ever heard, so I think this kid's got some real potential. And it doesn't hurt that he looks a little like Christian Bale. But Forrest Whitaker's Idi Amin from Last King of Scotland has a real shot. I am DYING to see this movie and I'm glad it's getting notice because, from what I know about it, it looks Important (capitol I). And then there's Little Children, which has put a contender into each the Best Actress and the Best Supporting Actor categories. And it looks like Pan's Labyrinth, a little Mexican fantasy, is getting some notice as well. This doesn't make up for the fact that, last year, The Academy overlooked the German/Turkish Head-On (Gagan Die Wand), a film that's made it into the pantheon of Marjorie's Top Five. But it's a start.

And then there are some seriously questionable decisions that The Academy seems to have made. Little Miss Sunshine for best picture? WHAT? This movie is kinda cute and all... but it's certainly NOT one of the 5 best films of the year. All I can say is, at least Dreamgirls didn't get a nod here. I can only deal with so many Broadway musicals-cum-big-buzz-movies getting so much hype. A la (yawn-fest) Chicago. But I think Babel is likely to win this category, anyway-- I haven't seen it; it got mixed reviews; I'm gonna withhold my opinion until it comes out on video. But, then, Will Smith in the Pursuit of Happyness? Really? This movie looks like such a sappy schmaltzy puddle of high-fructose corn syrup that I can't figure out why anyone would take it seriously. Oh, and Ms. Meryl getting her obligatory annual nomination for--whatthefuckever--The Devil Wears Prada. Yeah, ok, so, she's still Meryl Streep and all but how could there possibly be anything challenging enough in a comedic-bitchy bad boss role to merit such congratulations as an Oscar? With any luck Penelope Cruz (Volver)or Judi Dench (Notes on a Scandal)will win in this category, but I think the smart money's on Helen Mirren in The Queen--a movie that strikes me as having as little real-world relevance as its subject matter. But Alan Arkin in Little Miss Sunshine? Abigail Breslin in Little Miss Sunshine? I'm not sure either of these actors was actually ACTING in these parts. And just because I think Dreamgirls looks like a piece of crap to begin with, I do not think Jennifer Hudson and Eddie Murphy are exactly deserving of their nominations either-- but that has more to do with my feelings about that movie than it does with their performances.

There just seem to be so many more suspect nominations this year than last. I find this terribly disheartening because, frankly, I don't want to be just another cynical Oscar dissenter. I miss the bedazzlement I felt watching the show when I was a kid. Ok, to be perfectly honest, I've felt a little distrustful of the whole event ever since the year Titanic, which I consider to be pretty much the worst, sappiest, most manipulative, politically problematic hunk o' gar-BAHHGE ever, swept. Yes, I hate the movie Titanic. A lot. But still, I WANT to believe in the institution of The Academy Awards. And so, come early March, you'll find me, glass of red wine in one hand, bucket of Trader Joe's cookies in the other, spread out on my sofa, hoping for the best. C'mon Forrest. I'm countin' on you, man!

A Melange o' Foreign Cinema

Upon walking into some class or other when I was in grad school, I remember hearing a classmate complaining that his roommate was under the mistaken notion that, if the film was foreign, it had to be good. And so, said classmate apparently spent a fair ammount of time avoiding his own living room after his roommate's hit-or-miss visits to Casa Video. And it's true-- while bad foreign films do not always play by the same rules as bad domestic films, they can be oh-so-bad, just the same. And then, there are always the little gems that keep drawing me back into that lonely aisle...

Really, I don't have much to say about any of these that I've been watching lately so, in lieu of directional thumbs, I'm offering brief "yeas" and "nays" on my recent viewings.

First something French: Novo: Nay
OK, so, this wasn't exactly my cup of Cafe Au Lait. The basic storyline goes something like this: random beautiful women take advantage of a handsome guy who's lost his memory by having lots of sex with him. And he sorta, maybe, falls in love with one of them. But he can't really remember. I don't know-- the whole thing just didn't make much sense to me. The guy was kinda cute and all... by why are all these women aflutter, exactly? And what was the deal with his wife? I don't know. I'll entertain the possibility that I just wasn't paying enough attention... but I'll also entertain an alternative possibility that the storytelling was just plain old sub-par.

And now, two Italian pieces:
First, Don't Tell: Yea, with reservations due to lack of ingenuity in terms of approach:
This movie was up for the foreign language Academy Award a couple of years ago, I guess. And it's a well-shot little movie about a father sexually abusing his kids. Perhaps I've been watching too much of this sort of thing, but it all felt like so much re-tread, only in Italian this time around. It's a nice little film but doesn't have the impact of something like Mysterious Skin and it certainly isn't the sucker-punch of Hard Candy.

And then, Don't Move: Yea, for the most part
Actually, by the time this movie wound it's way around itself, it won me over. They sure managed to ugly up poor Penelope Cruz-- but it's worth it: she is a ravaged woman. But the most interesting thing to note is that Cruz's character gets raped early on in the movie. And then she procedes to fall in love with her rapist. And he with her. This is a concept that gives me the willies all over the place. And it's the primary reason why I ended up giving this movie a "yea".

And from South Africa, Tsotsi, of course: a quiet Yea
This is a very simple story and it's well-shot and well-told. "Tsotsi" means "thug" in Afrikaans and noting the American cultural infiltration in even this most distant of locales is unavoidable. This thing won the Best Foreign Film statuette last year-- the same year that the Turkish Head-on (Gagen Die Wand) came out. As Head-on wasn't even nominated, I don't suppose Tsotsi was such a bad choice. But it's safe and rather unadventurous in both its plot and treatment. Seriously, though, if you can get your hands on Head-on, rent it. It's one of the best, most complex, sexy, engaging, gravitationally tumbling movies I've seen in ages.