Greetings, loyal readers!
I’m here now to formally address readers directly instead of attacking them with my spontaneous thoughts. My time as Opinions editor for The Equinox is coming to a close at the conclusion of this spring semester. BUT, I have good news for the two people that read this blog: I have a Twitter! Links to the latest movie, music and just about any news that I would consider life-altering, as well as personal antics you have to read to believe, will all be tucked into my Twitter page. I encourage you to check it out and follow me. I’m cool, I promise. I sincerely wish anybody that has gotten this far in my last post has a relaxing and pleasurable summer. Remember, aloe is your best friend. Peace out cub scouts! =)
Join the party @greGOneil
~Greg
Hit-Girl is my new hero. She is so undeniably enthralling I just want to jump into the theater screen and hug her. But who is this “Hit-Girl”? She’s your worst enemy, that’s who.
The quasi-superhero featured in the movie “Kick-Ass” steals the title character’s thunder and then proceeds to shoot lightning into every scene she’s in. Hit-Girl, or Mindy Macready, is a 12-year-old assassin, the daughter of “Big Daddy” (another fake superhero in the film) and a C4 explosive disguised as a cupcake. This little girl can flip, flop, rage, rock and occasionally whip out a switchblade and throw it into a bad guy’s forehead. Other talents include driving (without a permit, oh my!), taking a gun shot to the chest as if it were nothing more than a BB pellet, pervasively using four-letter swear words and slicing off limbs with a katana-esque pole thingy (it’s what Donatello the purple Ninja Turtle uses except with very, very sharp blades on either end).
The movie is about four wanna-be superheroes with no powers. They fight crime but get beat up a-LOT. Kick-Ass, a geeky high-school in the vein of Peter Parker, almost dies in his first foray in (trying to) kick ass. There’s Kick-Ass, who looks about as intimidating as a coral reef-colored condom, Red Mist, who is actually a completely pointless character in the film, Big Daddy, who is Batman with more artillery and my girl, Hit-Girl.
Kick-Ass is the main character in “Kick-Ass” but Hit-Girl is the main attraction. She’s barely in the movie if you judge her screen time against how many more scenes you WANT her to be in. Her first appearance in costume is the best part of the movie; Kick-Ass is about to be killed when Dora The Explorer’s worst nightmare comes swooping in to save him. “Alright you 
c****s, let’s see what you can do now,” is what comes out of her seemingly innocent mouth. What comes next isn’t an ass-kicking; it’s an all-out slaughter. Hit Girl clears the room to the song “Banana Splits,” a catchy little diddy that would be right at home on a punk-rock version of Seasame Street. Part of her appeal is the very essence of what she is and what she shouldn’t be: a little girl who happens to be a homicidal maniac.
Critics of the movie have been up in arms over the portrayal of a 7th grader doing (and saying) such obscene things. I went in thinking it might be borderline disturbing, but as wrong as it is for me to say this, I enjoyed every minute of her domination. Believe me, by the end of “Kick-Ass,” you actually want her to let loose her rage. She is wronged (not saying how), and painfully, and watching 4 ft. tall killing machine wreak havoc is a shocking delight. Look, it’s just a movie, people. The graphic novel from which the movie is derived remains considerably more gruesome than what’s onscreen. Within it’s own context and in the world of “Kick-Ass,” socially apprehensible behavior replaces any form of reality. The movie has the exact some blood pumping through it’s veins as “Kill Bill” and Matthew Vaughn, the director, clearly has read up on his how-to-film-a- Quentin-Tarantino-action-scene books. It’s all so over-the-top as to be a notch below parody.
If there is to be a sequel, Hit-Girl needs to be front and center. She’s the most gobsmackingly cool female antagonist in years (I’m so going to hell for saying this). “Kick-Ass” isn’t a great film but it’s occasionally great fun, mostly because purple-wigged Chloe Moretz, aka Mindy, is so good at grabbing shock factor by the balls; that is, before she cuts them off.
WARNING: The following clip is extremely R-rated. Watch if you dare.
Video game adaptations have the potential to be supremely awesome. Usually, when an exceptional game premieres and a film feels warranted (it never actually is, but this is the money-grubbing profession of the world after all), it’s thrown together faster than a foot-long sub at Quiznos. The story stays essentially the same but muppets end up writing the script (I’ve decided for every bad movie that’s made, I’m going to blame the screenwriters of “Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen”).
Literally, there has never been a good movie based on a video game. The closest we’ve ever come is “Tomb Raider” and that’s only because Angelina Jolie is Lara Croft. It was about her character, not the plot. And Jolie is very rarely less than captivating in anything, especially when, in the case of “Raider,” her cleavage have major supporting roles. “Tomb Raider” was silly fun which perfectly captured who the female Indiana Jones is and her 
physique-heavy personality. It’s a guilty pleasure to say the least.
I guess the standard was set back in 1993 when “Super Mario Bros.” hit theaters. I can’t imagine it was at the mutliplex for very long. Regardless of the obvious fact there could never be a cool movie made about the plumber and his pals, the early 90s production made its first huge mistake by replacing the cartoon with live action actors. At least retain the spirit of the game. Mario does not look like an irritated Emeril Lagasse. Things haven’t improved in the slightest since then.
“Silent Hill” had a great atmosphere, but the story didn’t go anywhere. Come to think of it, neither did the game itself. “Mortal Combat” was all combat and no story. “Resident Evil” had its moments but nothing that happened in the game correlated with the events of the film. I’m even going to touch 
“Doom,” “Hitman” and “Bloodrayne.”
I don’t get it. What is so hard about adapting a video game into a movie? I’ve taken a few moments of silence to gather my thoughts and have slowly begun to realize it’s the studios (as usual) who don’t get it. After a while it becomes obvious what the problem is: good games aren’t getting film counterparts! The material hitting cinemas are rentals at best. Then, when the light bulb finally goes off, the classics are shelved because of budgetary and script problems. This happened with “Halo,” (to be produced by Peter “The Lord of the Rings” Jackson; and that wouldn’t kick ass because…) “Bioshock” (to be directed by Gore “Pirates of the Caribbean” Verbinski; and that wouldn’t kick ass because…) and now just recently “Gears of War” which would kick major mass no matter who directed it.
No one wants to gamble on a high budget and no one wants to take the time to manufacture a great story. The three stalled projects all could erase the video game association and simply be a stellar film. They have the “it” factor that begs to be translated for the big screen. I have a few rules for all the suits out there:
1. Never adapt a piece of shit game. Earth to common sense, it won’t be any better as a movie.
2. If you’re gonna do it, do it BIG.
3. Hire a screenwriter who has graduated middle school.
4. Hire a director with knock-your-socks-off cred.
5. Do not, under any circumstances, hire stars. If the actors are unknowns, they have nothing to lose (and you get to pay them less!) and the overall product will be taken much more seriously. May’s “Prince of Persia,” starring Jake Gyllenhaal, broke this rule severely.
6. Get the game’s creators involved because typically, you know, they know what’s best for their baby.
7. File a film production restraining order against Uwe Boll, the mastermind behind some the worst movies, let alone his video game adaptations, ever.
8. Start the future on the right foot by canceling Ridley Scott’s planned “Monopoly” movie. Yes, you heard that right, the 73 year-old Brit behind “Alien” and “Gladiator” is making a board game into a movie.
9. No more than one a year. Video game movies already have the worst reputations in the business; don’t have them overstay an already overstayed welcome.
10. Don’t be afraid to expand past horror and shooter games, 99% of the video game-to-movie creations. I’m sure “The Legend of Zelda” has potential, even if said potential ranges from a rollicking good time to cringe-worthy.
Video games today are cinematic in nature, so why can’t the cinema handle them? Mark my words, the guidelines listed above are a recipe for success.
Spring may have sprung only days ago but we are currently in a different kind of season, the season of the unabashedly shitty movie. Movie seasons operate in a similar fashion to the weather. They last about as long, too. There two out of the four seasons we can all agree upon as enjoyable and two that are just downright depressing. Summer and spring usher in warmth and picturesque scenery. Fall and winter seem like sad conclusions to what our climate should be. Leaves fall, the ground turns to tundra and the world goes from a full color photograph to greyscale. While winter and fall are one giant entity lasting months, the movies separate their two seasons to spare us long term agony.
Prime viewing every year begins in May, when the onslaught of summer movies takes hold of the industry for four months. It’s a glorious time; great weather and great (and occasionally shallow) movies coexisting in harmony together. Few films released during this time have a high IQ, but they kick ass and take names. If there’s a fun script to match the special effects, I find myself feeling like a kid all over again (“Pirates of the Caribbean” 1 & 2, I’m talking to you; number 3, what was the point of you existing?). Most of the time, its 120 days of guilty pleasure.
Then we enter a period where every pseudo-summer movie that was rejected gets pushed to September, our first lame season. This is when Clive Owen shoots lots of stuff real good in “Shoot ‘Em Up” and the next Nicolas Sparks adaptation swoons females of every age, both applying a level of cheese to rival a macaroni casserole. The latest early fall tear-jerker was “Nights in Rodanthe” which reunited Diane Lane and Richard Gere, a clearly exhilarating pair. October doesn’t do much to lift moviegoers out of the rut, mostly because every other movie is a slasher flick with impossible amounts of full front female nudity. And then there is always the next “Saw” movie to look forward to. What number are they on now, eight?
After two months of sifting through the trenches of bland and unoriginal filmmaking, November comes around to begin the second act of releasing movies that are blockbusters. Sure, there are way too many Christmas movies (released, mysteriously, around Thanksgiving, proving once and for all movie executives are clinically retarded). Two words, though: Oscar. season. The big guns are taken out of their holsters and if the hype is justified, they fire on all cylinders. Future classics are destined to come into the limelight around this time. Usually, I can die a happy man by end of awards circuit.
We’re stuck right now in the final season in the cycle of the movie industry and coupled with a climate from Antartica, it’s the worst by far. January through April is the long slog before the big summer movie season comes around the bend. Audiences are in the thick of it as we speak. I regard the current slate of movies as such: It’s as though the studios took a giant laxative to let all the creative leftovers out. There are rules, however, to mediocrity. Every month during this hullabaloo, one freaking awesome movie is allowed. Just one. That’s the standard. This past January, we were given “Edge of Darkness” and although I have yet to actually SEE the movie, I can only assume the entertainment value is there due to the prospects of a pissed off Mel Gibson. February released “Shutter Island,” a different but disturbing thriller from Martin Scorsese. March should have had its crowning achievement in “Alice in Wonderland,” but you know all too well my thoughts on that already. Instead, it seems, “How to Train Your Dragon” – the annual animated film to come out in March, a month more prone than any other for the r
elease of animated films (“Ice Age: The Meltdown,” “Monsters vs. Aliens” etc.) – is the big winner.
Critics are calling “Dragon” essentially “Avatar” meets “Shrek.” Entertainment Weekly, in an all-out rave says, “It has winningly Potteresque teen-dragon-slayer classes, a queen-bee dragon as grand as Godzilla, and a layer of age-of-terror allegory about the ignorance bred by jingoism.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best example, as Owen Gleiberman just loooves to make his reviews as incomphrehensible as a David Lynch film. Translation: it has bomb action sequences, its cute for the kiddies and occasionally it throws in a very, very stealthy adult reference that wins over the all-to-philosophical movie critics. The 3-D adventure has a challenger on its hands in the form of “Hot Tub Time Machine,” a comedy with the best movie title since “Snakes on a Plane.” Surprisingly, “Machine” is getting well received, though when you think about it, how can a movie with such a so-bad-it’s-good title be horrendously bad? It’s one of those rare instances where the movie that’s supposed to suck is actually really good.
And the rest speaks for itself: “Leap Year,” “The Spy Next Door,” “Legion,” “Tooth Fairy,” “Valentines Day,” “Brooklyn’s Finest,” “Remember Me,” “The Bounty Hunter” and “Tyler Perry’s Why Did I Get Married Too.”
Thankfully, audiences will be relieved of this blasphemy soon. As the flowers bloom, so do movies of quality.
Since about mid-2008, I was very well aware “Alice in Wonderland,” the newest adaptation only three weeks old, was going to be made. When I read Tim Burton was to sit in the directors chair, I nearly lost it. To me, Burton is arguably the defining visual artist of the movie medium currently working today. He has no peers. Burton’s a filmmaker whose resume you could put up on a slideshow and be able to indentify his work based on a single still photograph. That neo-gothic stamp is iconic. It’s something of a miracle it’s taken the auteur twenty-five years and fourteen films to burrow down the rabbit hole, but he’s been doing variations of that for an entire career. In theory, “Alice” is tailor-made for every quirky and gloomy sensibility Burton has in his limitless imagination.
Having seen the film at last, it’s clear Lewis Carrol’s story still is, kind of.
The movie actually is the closest thing to a disaster Burton’s done since his 2001 version of ”Planet of the Apes.” Well, “Apes” was a disaster, “Alice” is a misfire. I’m cautious to call this a review, since I’m not really sticking to the conventions of what a movie review has to involve, but more of a discussion.
As I think over the film more and more, the angrier I get. On one hand, it’s nearly impossible to screw the story up. Alice falls down hole. Alice meets weirdos. Alice learns adult lessons
from said weirdos without actually realizing it. Alice leaves. Yet Carrol’s ”Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” it’s taken me this long to realize, is only memorable for how unmemorable it is. Really, those clinically insane characters ARE “Alice in Wonderland.” There isn’t a story. Her entire journey is nonsense. In the 1951 Disney cartoon, a properly hallucinagenic experience, the little girl meets the smoking caterpillar, the Mad Hatter, the Queen of Hearts and the Chesire Cat, all anectdotes in a series of strange sequences. Like this newest version, she doesn’t quite know what to make of what she sees. And how could she? Everything around her is politically incorrect.
While Burton’s Alice, a blossoming, perceptive 19-year-old going on 30, knows exactly how ridiculous Wonderland is, therefore becoming unphased by it, the cartoon Alice has no idea, leading to innocent confusion. Both reactions don’t inherently work for compelling narrative. Our hero is either turned off by this deceptively inviting place or finds the wonder going right over her head. Burton wisely has chosen a script where no sense is made of the nonsense. He’s trying something new, fleshing out and stretching thin Carrol’s sequel to Alice’s first adventure, “Through the Looking Glass,” and the Jabberwocky poem inside. On paper the idea is novel. We don’t need to see the classic done for the 21st time. But man, where’s the story, here?
There isn’t a single memorable character in “Alice in Wonderland,” which is amazing because it’s exactly the characters that make the story worthwhile. I am reminded of the evaporating Chesire Cat, a really fantastic image. Like the feline, everyone in Burton’s film slowly fades out of memory. Nobody is given any exposition. There are so many things happening at once, the plot never takes the time to stop and revel in what made these many creations so special. Burton does manange to do this once, in the film’s best and brilliant sequence, The Mad Hatter’s tea party. It’s perfectly executed. Everything from the performances, the costumes and set dressing is the exact spirit of Carroll. But right as we’ve settled in, the plot intrudes.
I’m so madly torn by “Alice in Wonderland.” It has a story, yet doesn’t really at the same time. It’s a story thin enough to give you a paper cut. I had the hardest time caring about any of it. Yet in a way, I can’t for the life of me think of an alternative, and most importantly, definitive take on this material. Sometimes, the seeminly easy stuff is by far the most impossible to
adapt. The imagery of Wonderland is positively clamoring to be put up on the silver screen, but its all for nothing if there isn’t some sort of draw. I wanted to explore Wonderland, not leave it. It’s really saying something when the opening real world sequences are far more exciting than the tripiness of Wonderland.
Tim Burton really isn’t to blame because he tried his best with what he had. This is a script problem. Scenes end abruptly and the flow of movie is preposterous. Even Johnny Depp (my ultimate muse) as the Hatter is unfocused. The performance has no centrality to it. Instead of being one note of mad (which he should be), he’s about five. From the introduction of new and pointless characters to the very little time spent with old ones, this is a movie totally lacking in joy, spirit and, yeah, wonder. It’s a collection of moments with only a a few wonderfully zany ones. This isn’t a movie of “Alice in Wonderland,” but a skit of “Alice in Wonderland.”
When Alice gets to Wonderland, what next? It’s a tricky question. What, really, is the point? I think the consensus is there shouldn’t be a point. Welcome the insanity instead of caging it. Tim Burton, of all people, is trying to cage it. He’s trying to give purpose to a dream. When we awaken from a dream, there are moments we remember and little bits that are lost. Even if none of it is comphrensible, it was still an adventure and, oddly enough, reasonable within the context of fantasy. It’s the beauty of the human mind.
George Clooney’s dry cleaner is innocent of all charges. He/she knew not what crime’s were being committed at the time. Assurring pristine clothing is their job. I do not hold it against them.
The charges in question? 1) Acting as an accessory to the the beautification of a tool. 2.) Inflating a man’s ego the size of a hot air balloon. 3.) Pampering said ego-centric tool with services that of which will only be rewarded by the portrayal of the same character over…and over…and over…and over again.
As you may have no doubt acertained, I have a bit of a problem with George Clooney. The man’s very face annoys me. His smile, that dartboard-ready cheeky grin. His status, golden boy turned “great” actor turned middled-aged sex meat. And (oy vey) his style.
I feel as thought I must make it clear to you that Clooney’s looks are not the basis for my utter contempt for him; Those are just an added bonus. No, this all started where it should, acting. George Clooney is not an actor. His “characters” are mere projections of himself. He acts like an actor when the person being portrayed is a clown (“The Men Who Stare At Goats,” “Burn After Reading,” “O Brother, Where Art Thou?”). But this weird once-in-a-while disguise doesn’t fool me. These decisions are made to maintain the balance in the Force of Clooney.
Good ol’ George is literally the same guy in over half his movies. He’s suave, sexy, charming, smart, trusting, clean, direct and quick with his words. He’s a womanizer but not a slut. He’s James Bond with a silencer on his penis.
I knew Mr. Clooney was bad news the minute I saw him ice skating as Batman in “Batman & Robin.” It would be my first encounter with George. His codpiece was exponentially bigger than not only Robin’s but every other Batman in the history of Caped Crusader codpieces. We all knew he was well endowed judging by that man’s man smirk of his. But my god, toy companies, what kind of corporation sucks innocent children into movie tie-in action figures with subliminal messages advertising male enhancement? Warner Bros. was well aware of how big the Clooney could be (Note: I’m done speaking on behalf of his package and moving on to the size of his career). But the star did just as much damage as the studios. His interpretation of The Dark Knight was once again driven by his obsession of being perfect. No flaws were to be found in Bruce Wayne. He saved the world without nabbing any scars and got home just in time for dinner. Batman, according to George Clooney, was the equivalent of a married superhero, dedicated to his job but not allowing it get in the way of his fortune and home life. And during the occasional altercation with a few bad guys, a secure enough gentleman who was willing to sacrifice his dignity by performing a triple axel in a rubber suit with nipples.
Out of all the jobs in George Clooney’s filmmography, nine or more have required him to were suits. While h
is dry cleaner is ethically challenged as a person, they must be rolling in the dough as a working professional. I think this is the peak of my dislike for Clooney. The guy simply wears too many suits. Really, it’s ridiculous. I want to list them off for you to fully realize the seriousness of the situation: ”Oceans 11-13,” ”Intolerable Cruely,” “Michael Clayton,” “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind” and ”Syriana” (in a move to confuse viewers, Clooney appeared fat and bearded in this movie but the appearance of a suit could not cover up his deceptions). Incredulously, the guy even wore a suit when he was fox in “Fantastic Mr. Fox.” I can suspect but not confirm the involvement of a suit in other works such as “The Good German” and ”Good Night and Good Luck.” In his latest movie, “Up in the Air,” in which he plays a guy who’s constantly traveling (in a suit!) and responsible for ruining people’s lives (aka, himself). He fires workers of various crafts for a living. He also manages to put the Clooney stamp on the film by sleeping with a classy woman and smirking alot.
Everybody loves George Clooney. “He’s a philanthropist!” “He’s too cool not to like!” “He’s a decent actor!”
Wonderful, but he’s also looks quite smug about it, too.
George Clooney has been nominated for an Oscar five times. He’s won once (for his angry staring in “Syriana”). There are allegations of him being a genius (see left). Judging by photographic evidence, he practically doesn’t age. I sense a likely scenario of Clooney dying at the age of 103 looking just as he does now.
Look, I don’t hate George Clooney. Most of the time, my criticisms are simply playful awknowledgements of his pitfalls as an actor. But what is going on here? How can someone make a career in Hollywood by acting the same for two decades – making millions along the way -, wearing a suit everywhere to maintain said sameness and look so handsome while doing so? Life is not this easy. And it should not be for Geore Clooney, a man who knows exactly how polarizing he is to the opposite sex and appealing to mass audiences willing to see him appear as another baffoon wearing a brand new designer suit.
I follow the Oscars to a borderline unhealthy degree, so much so that it is certain I know more about the behind-the-scenes bullshit that’s going on more than most people my age. As you’ll learn in my next column for the Keene State College newspaper The Equinox, (published Thursdays at noon, available online at a soon-to-be beautifully refurbished website www.keeneequinox.com – that’s my plug) I am both equally obsessed and angry with the Oscars, the latter being a slowly developed feeling ever since they criminally put the joke on us and shut “The Dark Knight” out of Best Picture last year. Still, I remain enamored. Typically, I suck hard at predicting the eventual winners (though last year I think I went 21/24 or something!). I have my good moments, but for as much as I know how and why a film CAN win in a category, the skill to get inside the heads of those old geezers heads in the Academy has been consistently impossible and never rewarding. They’re the Republican party of the film industry. How well you kiss their ass is priority numero uno.
Anyway, I’ll get on with this, shall I?
BEST PICTURE:
Avatar
The Blind Side
District 9
An Education
The Hurt Locker
Inglorious Baseterds
Precious
A Serious Man
Up
Up in the Air
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a true race on our hands. Not since The Departed nabbed the trophy in ‘06 has the predicting been so hard to do. “No Country for Old Men” and “Slumdog Millionare” were obvious recipients, but this year there’s a problem: 10 nominees. That means a preferential balloting system, where Best Picture is chosen by a majority of overall support instead of which movie gets the most #1 votes. Before, members just mark which film out of the five they want to win on the ballot. Now, they have to rank their preference 1-10 and through ten rounds, the film with the most overall support (as in, a movie with many not as many #1 votes could still win if they boast tons of #2’s and #3’s) wins the prize.
“The Hurt Locker” is clearly the early favorite after winning individual and vital guild awards from the directors, producers and writers. It’s critically acclaimed, relevant and of its time. “Avatar” is…well, what isn’t “Avatar?” Only three can win this thing: “Locker,” “Avatar,” or “Basterds.” We’re talking full industry support here, so it only makes sense the important Iraq War drama, Quentin Tarantino’s most accomplished movie since “Pulp Fiction” and the highest grossing movie of all time battle it out. I wouldn’t be surprised if “Basterds” won (well, actually I would) because it has that core fan base within the Academy who have major support for Tarantino, a now-seasoned veteran. It’s been 16 years since he last ran the circuit and finally rewarding him seems like the right thing to do. But c’mon now, this is David vs. Goliath. Everyone is saying “The Hurt Locker” for the win, but I’m going to go rogue and pick “Avatar,” for three reasons. 1) It has the its-too-big-to-deny/reestablishment of the wonder of movies thing going on 2) It represents the popular vote in an era the Academy is drastically out of touch with 3) Voting for the “The Hurt Locker” is just too boring. Seriously. “Locker” is probably going to win but if “Avatar” swoops in like a Na’Vi on a banshee for the win, I can be one of the five individuals worldwide who would’ve guessed right. I’m not in this for the prediction action anymore, only fun. Plus, “Avatar” was the most entertaining experience I’ve ever had at the movies. I’m fully preparing to be wrong here.
WILL/SHOULD WIN: “Avatar”
ALTERNATE: “The Hurt Locker”
BEST DIRECTOR
Kathryn Bigelow – “The Hurt Locker”
James Cameron – “Avatar”
Lee Daniels – “Precious”
Jason Reitman – “Up in the Air”
Quentin Tarantino - “Inglorious Basterds”
Bigelow has this in the bag. How irresistible is this woman? Well for one, she would be the first woman in the history of the Oscars to win Best Director. There have been three others but other works were too overshadowing. She also directed the frontrunner for Best Picture and really, her movie is expertly made. It really is. “The Hurt Locker” is a movie where the direction draws attention to itself, but in a great way. Daniels and Reitman are there for the sauce. Neither has a chance. Tarantino suffers from being so awesome at precisely the wrong time. But he should’ve won for “Pulp Fiction” anyway. The chance to properly reward him for the right film is gone for good. Cameron is the only one to upset. Why? Because he’s James fucking Cameron. the former King of the World and now, after the intergalactic atomic bomb that was “Avatar,” King of the Universe. No other filmmaker can do what Cameron does.
SHOULD WIN: Cameron, but I’d be just fine with Bigelow taking it from her ex-husband, both for the post-nuptial irony and because of her kick-ass vision.
WILL WIN: Bigelow.
BEST ACTOR:
Jeff Bridges – “Crazy Heart”
George Clooney – “Up in the Air”
Colin Firth – “A Single Man”
Morgan Freeman – “Invictus”
Jeremy Renner – “The Hurt Locker”
The most boring Best Actor race in years. Bridges has been dominating for his understated performance and I don’t see him losing here. He would be 0/5 if he lost this time and that’s too heartbreaking for an actor who’s been in the business for so long.
SHOULD WIN: Firth. It’s a role of a lifetime for Firth, playing a gay college professor morning the loss of his lover. Just as understated as Bridges but more emotionally complex.
WILL WIN: Bridges.
BEST ACTRESS:
Sandra Bullock – “The Blind Side”
Helen Mirren - “The Last Station”
Carey Mulligan – “An Education”
Gabourey Sidibe – “Precious”
Meryl Streep – “Julie and Julia”
First Meryl got the heat. Then Sandra stole it away. And I have no idea why. I haven’t seen “The Blind Side” but she doesn’t seem like too much of a firecracker. Mulligan is probably most deserving, but I haven’t seen her film either. Mirren literally just won. Sidibe does rock as Precious, but no one shows the rest how its down as effortlessly as Streep. She hasn’t won in 28 years. 16 noms, 2 wins, yes, but this is the greatest living actress we’re talking about.
WILL WIN: Sandra Bullock for completely the wrong reasons.
SHOULD WIN: Streep but mostly because Mulligan remains a mystery.
BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
Matt Damon – “Invictus”
Woody Harrelson – “The Messenger”
Christopher Plummer – “The Last Station”
Stanley Tucci - “The Lovely Bones”
Christoph Waltz – “Inglorious Basterds”
Poor Plummer. He’s the newest recipient of the Ancient Actor To Finally Get An Oscar Nom award. And world peace will come before he wins this. Damon and Tucci the same. Harrelson got some traction but not nearly enough as the Waltz avalanche. And understandably. Waltz’s Nazi, Hans Landa, is soon-to-be the hat trick in the Academy’s arsenal to award a villainous role an Oscar. Bardem (woot!) won in ‘08. Ledger (triple woot!) won in ‘09. Waltz is pretty much indestructible. The deed is done.
WILL / SHOULD WIN: Waltz. I mean, have you seeeeeen the performance?
BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Penelope Cruz – “Nine”
Vera Farmiga – “Up in the Air”
Maggie Gyllenhaal – “Crazy Heart”
Anna Kendrick – “Up in the Air”
Mo’Nique – “Precious”
No race whatsoever. If you want to know why, just watch “Precious.”
WILL / SHOULD WIN: Mo’Nique in a landslide.
ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
The Hurt Locker
Inglorious Basterds
The Messenger
A Serious Man
Up
I’d be quick to say Tarantino for “Basterds” but if the Academy is horny for “The Hurt Locker,” forget it. I’m still going with Tarantino because, you know, he’s Quentin Tarantino, screenwriting prime rib. And because (holy mackerel!) his script is better, if that still means something.
WILL / SHOULD WIN: Tarantino. They’ll want to reward “Basterds” somewhere and if it has enough of a following, Waltz’s win won’t be enough.
SPOILER (it would be a very minor one): Mark Boal, “The Hurt Locker.” The Academy loves complementing a Best Picture win with a worthy screenplay.
BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
District 9
An Education
In The Loop
Precious
Up in the Air
Man, this is a boring category. “Precious” love so far seems to end with Mo’Nique and I see that happening at the Oscars. The top three made it for the glory of the nomination. “Up in the Air” isn’t winning everything else and going with what little riches “Inglorious Basterds” will be ravished with, “Up in the Air”’s pat on the back will be its screenplay. It’s won everywhere prior to Oscar and there’s no reason it won’t continue.
And if you haven’t stopped reading yet, I have the rest, but will hold the witty commentary:
CINEMATOGRAPHY
WILL / SHOULD WIN: “Avatar”
SPOILER: “The Hurt Locker”
ART DIRECTION
WILL / SHOULD WIN: “Avatar”
COSTUME DESIGN
WILL WIN: “The Young Victoria”
SHOULD WIN: “Nine”
FILM EDITING
WILL WIN: This one almost always goes with Best Picture, so by default I say “Avatar.” But if it’s “Locker”’s night, so be it.
SHOULD WIN: Tie. “Locker” / “Avatar”
MAKEUP
WILL / SHOULD WIN: “Star Trek”
SOUND MIXING / EDITING
WILL / SHOULD WIN: “Avatar.” I’m not gonna bother splitting these two up a) because the same film is winning both and b) you couldn’t care less.
VISUAL F/X
WILL / SHOULD WIN: “Avatar.” DUH.
ANIMATED FEATURE
WILL / SHOULD WIN: “Up.”
DOCUMENTARY FEATURE
WILL / SHOULD WIN: “The Cove.”
FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM
WILL / SHOULD WIN: “The White Ribbon.”
(Note: I don’t do Documentary or Animated Shorts because unlike everything else, I can’t even guess never mind vest any interest.)
So there you have it, folks. Chances are I’m mostly wrong as usual, but I swear to God, if “Avatar” takes Best Picture I’ll start betting real money starting next year. Happy watching!
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