Well, it's 11:50 pm. The "78th Annual Academy Awards" are quite over; 24 hours and counting. Everyone in the business is still shaking the crust of last night's hangover out of their eyes. And as I sit down at this Trojan-infected clicker to write my thoughts on yesterday's events, I have to be honest and say...If one more mother f*cker tells me they knew for a "fact" that Crash was going to win Best Picture, even though every one else had placed deep pockets on Brokeback Mountain, I'm going to scream a song of raped angels into their lying ears and punch them in the mouth with a well deserved set of toothpick-scarred knuckles.
You cock-monkeys didn't know jack-sh*t. It could have gone either way. And your only crying, "Look at me, I'm smart!" Because there's nothing else to talk about. At all. The award show presentation itself had its moments. Yeah, yeah...I heard John Steward was great (still didn't stop me from falling asleep during the ceremonies). And the gay cowboy montage was fun. But the truth of the matter is, no one really wanted to watch this year's Oscar Show. Why? Easy, and I've heard this from a million different friends and enemies. Not a single person outside of that Auditorium on Hollywood and Highland had any vested interest in a single nominated film. At all. No one cared. Everyone I talked to said, "Eh, the show was there. It was on my TV. But I didn't really care. I watched it. But it didn't get me excited at all." You want to know why? Because the majority of American moviegoers don't care about Gay Cowboys. They don't care about Gay Icons. They don't care about Black & White Politics. Did you see the ratings war between NBC's coverage of the Olympics and Fox's American Idol? Simon and his Gang of Retarded Pop singers dropped a Hiroshima Bomb on all those poor athletes that have trained years to get a gold medal. The average entertainment consumer would rather eat images of some fat Samoan belting out Barry Manilow tunes than watch a trained-since-birth Ice Skater or Snow Boarder break a new world's record. NO wonder Munich was the odd horse. And none of these people want to be reminded of their racist nature. Less than an hour ago, I saw a well known Jew bark, "Shit, those Niggers just won an award!" at a TV showing clips from last night's show. So you know that Best Picture Statue is going to go far. Yeah. It's on the high road. It's headed out West where we'll never see it again.
It's weird. A small voice cries special and everyone listens. Just because 4 dudes loitering around in Trader Joes saw Brokeback Mountain twice doesn't mean anyone else did. Besides the Supervisors at my real job, who get Academy Screeners, I don't personally know anyone that went and paid and saw Brokeback Mountain (or any of the other nominated films for that matter). I don't think it deserves all the praise it's been getting. Seriously. I've seen a ton of movies about men who love each other in one way or another. And what I can't figure out is why buttf*cking is so much more special than a fist fight. Or a shared beer. Or knocking Darth Vader's Tie Fighter out of a Trench so that special loved one can "Blow this thing and go home." Seriously. The only thing that separates Brokeback Mountain from any other love story is spit-lubed hand jobs and buttf*cking. And that should tell you something about Hollywood. Turn Romeo into Juliet and throw some buttf*cking into that Shakespeare play, you've got Brokeback Mountain. The Academy Voters knew this. They played it smart. At least Crash is pretending to be about something somewhat relevant. It's obvious that it should have won over Brokeback Mountain. If a movie about (and I can't emphasize this enough) buttf*cking won Best Picture at the Oscars, it would be time for all of us to take off our pants and quit the human race.
I know. I've heard that it's "because it's a great love story". Well, I've seen better love stories with more believable make-up jobs. Open Range with Kevin Costner and Robert Duvall was the same movie. Just without the buttf*cking. Where was its award? Non-existent...
I wasn't watching the telecast whEn Crash won. I was actually working. In conjunction with thE AcadEmy Awards. I was in thE trEnches. I was on thE sidElinEs. I was participating in thE worst Oscar Day EndEavor of thEm all. YEah, I was part of thE tEam that brings you another show that goEs hand-in-hand with thE AcadEmy Awards. I can't comE right out and say who I work for, bEcausE that's part of my agr(EE)mEnt with MoviEwEb. But you can probably figurE it out. It has to do with walking down this long, colored strEtch of shag and accosting cElEbritiEs with a ton of gayness. I don't usually agree with Harry KnowlEs over at AICN all that oftEn, but thE opEning paragraph of his Oscar piEce sums it up quitE nicEly.
For me, it's all about the catering. That's what the Academy Awards have come to mean to me. It's a day when I get a lot of free, really expensive food.
A member of the Orange family directed the show this year. He actually does it every year (Louis is my Dad's cousin). Sometimes with Troy Miller. That's cool, I guess. The thing about that is; it's always exciting to see your favorite stars in person. I guess that's why we watch and kind of care. I dig seeing the stars on the Red Carpet. That's always fun. And, despite what O'Rielly might say about him, I really admire the way Clooney handles his fans. He didn't hesitate to run over and sign autographs, or take a moment out to chat with a pedestrian on-looker. Not a whole lot of celebrities take that time out of their day. He knows where his bread is buttered. And I like him for that. Even if his Politics seem a little goofy at times.
Movieweb wanted me to write up a big long whoop-doo about the whole show, and all the awards that were handed out. God, that's already been done all day long and to death. All I can say is; I didn't see a single nominated film. And I didn't care who won. I got 13 of the categories right in the Office Oscar Pool. About that, they were mostly technical awards. I missed all the biggies. Except for Capote. You kind of had to know Hoffman was going to win. And it's bizarre. It demystifies the whole scenario and process. Why? Because when Phillip's in town, he hangs out at my friend's Coffee shop. I've seen him a million times. Its like, "Why's that quiet guy from Stir Crazy on stage with a statue? Do they give out awards for tipping well?"
Yeah. He's a pretty good tipper. And so is Spike Jonze. But to me, they're just two dudes in a coffee shop. Can you see why I'm not that excited? Then again, I sat with Harrison Ford and Calista Flockheart in an empty Ice Cream Shop on Catalina Island while he drunkenly told me a handful of really bad jokes for more than an hour. So maybe I've just become a jaded, name-dropping asshole that's lost touch with reality. The Academy Awards are just another day at the office for me.
By now you know who won. You don't need me to tell you. And you don't need me pontificating on every single award. I don't care about what you thought. Who you think should have won. Or why. So why should you care about my thoughts on the matter. You shouldn't. Just take my hand and nod in unison...