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Letter From the Webmaster
Letter From The Webmaster
I'm Going to Hell
I am so bad. I swore on a stack of bibles that I would post a new letter four days after my last one. Let's see, it's been one two three four...THIRTY-EIGHT days between my columns. Sweet merciful crap! I do have some excuses. One is that, like I said in my last column, I got a DVD player, and I've been wasting my time watching a lot of Woody Allen and John Cusack (One's the greatest comedic actor of his generation, the other's a lovably neurotic everyguy--you decide which). In order to rent DVDs I had to get a membership at Blockbuster. I needed two forms of ID. I do not get this. A driver's license is all you need. I do not need to give you a passport/student ID/birth certificate/social security card. A driver's license should be enough. That was far more hassle than I need. "Look pal, I just want to rent Stripes, not board the Space Shuttle."
Another of my excuses (I have many) is that I just had my wisdom teeth out. Because of this, I have spent the last week watching MTV and discovering the wonders of codeine. My cough syrup bottle actually gathered dust.
Anyhoo, politics aside for an episode, it's Oscar Time. It helps if you say it like "Miller Time." Hey, wouldn't it be cool if the little golden man actually did contain some sort of alcohol? Not Miller Genuine Draft, of course, but like Pabst Blue Ribbon? I mean, you win an Oscar, take it home, crack it open and pour yourself a glass of Glenlivet. Think of the photo ops: The best director, actor, and actress raising their statues in a toast to Hollywood. Of course, that would cause slightly more drunkenness at Oscar parties. Gives a whole new meaning to "Supporting Actor". Maybe what they should do is put wine in them. Then the winners have an incentive to save them. You know, let them age. I can see how this would affect Sotheby's in the future. "Up for auction, lot no. 346, a never-opened Tom Hanks 2001 Best Actor, a very fine year."
Or maybe they could put chocolate in them. There would always be that one person who refused to eat the head first. "It's cruel." Yeah, like starting at the feet and nibbling your way up isn't something that's used in Guatemalan torture camps.
One tradition that remains eternal for Hollywood is the "picks column." The one where some pretentious, high-minded scholar explains in some pretentious, high-minded journal (No, I am not talking about High Times) why "this movie" must win Best Picture. By "this movie" I mean whichever PC, "literary," "brilliant" "masterpiece" is being hyped by Miramax this week. Lucky for me, most of the movies nominated do not fall into that category. You see, I happen to be doing a picks column (I am pretentious, but I pride myself on my low-mindedness). And so, I give you:
The Webmaster's Picks
What I'm going to do is rate each of the nominated films, and give my reasons why and why not they should win. This should be easy, seeing as how I have only seen two of them, and I liked them both. As a judge, I'm fairly corrupt, so I'll give good grades to the two I've seen, a neutral grade to one I haven't seen (but have heard good reviews about) and bad grades to two I haven't seen and have no desire to. If you really, really disagree with me, flame me at IDontGiveARatsAss@BiteMe.com. And I'll ignore you. Also, I'll give you my five picks for who should have been nominated, and the movie I think should have won.
Erin Brokovich I probably spelled that wrong, but I don't care. First off, let me say that I don't think that Julia Roberts is particularly talented. Nor is she that attractive. (She's not ugly, her mouth is just too big.) In my opinion, she's best in light, fluffy roles that don't require her to attempt to act. I also don't like movies about small-town trial lawyers taking on big, heinous corporations. When I watch them, I always root for the corporations. I like to root for the underdog. So I give Erin Brokovich Two Iron Spikes, which are like Stars only more painful. That's out of a maximum of six, mind you. (Why always five?)
Gladiator When I saw the previews for Gladiator, I said to myself, "Self," I said, "you are going to see that movie." I say that a lot when I'm at the theater. Nine times out of ten, I never see the movie. I saw Gladiator. Then I went and saw it again. I saw it on video, I saw it off the Net, and I saw it off a bootleg DiVx copy my friend had. I now own it on DVD. I never get tired of it. I love having it on DVD, because I can skip past the boring history parts, and go right to the battle scenes. I ignore the romance, although Connie Nielsen reminds me of someone and I can't put my finger on who. Russell Crowe is great. In making this movie, he totally redeems himself for making "The Insider," the way Ridley Scott makes up for "G. I. Jane". The tobacco industry and the military, while both making it their business to actively kill people instead of passively letting nature take its course, are subjects of another column and I will address them later. Russell Crowe's next work will be, I predict, a commercial flop, since his film history follows this pattern: flop, flop, hit. (Quick and the Dead, Virtuosity, L. A. Confidential; Mystery, Alaska, Insider, Gladiator) His most recent film, Proof of Life, I have not seen, but apparently was well received, so I may be wrong in the above. I hereby give Gladiator Five Iron Spikes. (You thought I was going to give it Thumbs-up Thumbs-Down, didn't you?)
Traffic On Stephen (ph or v? I could check, but I'm lazy) Soderbergh's Traffic, I have heard good reviews and bad reviews. It has Michael Douglas in it, who has slowly rolled downhill since the eighties and has come to rest in the gutter next to Alec Baldwin, so that's a ding against it from the start. However, it does have Catherine Zeta-Jones in it, who I would gladly pay to watch fly-fish, which easily cancels out Mr. Douglas' contribution. One would think that I would be upset that Miss Zeta-Jones is no longer Miss, but I actually am glad she got married. She is, I believe, the most adult actress in Hollywood currently working. By that I mean she exudes maturity, which is rare in L. A. Instead of trying to be an eighteen-year-old, Mrs. Zeta-Jones-Douglas has a kind of quiet dignity. You can picture her throwing dinners instead of parties. Traffic also has Benicio del Toro, who was absolutely hilarious in "The Usual Suspects," so he is probably really good in Traffic. This movie is about drugs, which means that it probably tries to be profound and fails miserably. Just to be clear, when a movie attempts something and fails miserably, it does so not by being incredibly far off expectations, but by coming incredibly close and failing to achieve them. I'll give Traffic Four Iron Spikes, probably good, but nothing to write home about.
Chocolat This is Miramax's annual entry into the Oscar race, and from the looks of it, I hate it already. I sense that I hate it, because all the hairs on the back of my neck go up when I think about it, the way they do just before lightning strikes somewhere close. (Note: In this review, every time this movie makes a mistake, I'll put a little "bang" sound effect. Let's say it's the sound of another Iron Spike being driven home.)It rags on the Catholic Church (Bang!), which is a no-no in my family but perfectly acceptable in Hollywood. See Dogma if you don't believe me. Wait. On second thought, don't see Dogma. It's probably Kevin Smith's least funny work. Chocolat is based in France (Bang!) my least favorite country, and is the story of how the people of the town "learn to enjoy life while escaping the soulless clutches of the Catholic Church through chocolate." That's not an actual quote from somewhere, I'm just too lazy to look one up, and I think it captures the essence of the film. I hate movies that preach to me, so that's another strike against Chocolat. Two Iron Spikes, pulpy pap of the most pulpiest persuasion. (P.S. I don't really have a problem with good-natured ribbing towards the Catholic Church--I do it myself from time to time--I just didn't think Dogma was funny.)
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Haiiiiiii! Bu-Shiiii! Kee-Dohhhhh! Holy Christ. I saw the trailer for this movie on the Internet, on a crappy tiny screen, and it was jerky and choppy and the dialogue didn't synch with the visuals--but I still wanted to see it. Badly. When I got home I tried to show my family what was so frickin' cool about this movie, and failed miserably because my parents have dial-up. I will watch anything with Chow Yun Fat in it because he is an ultimate badass and the king of cool. Besides, when I did finally see CTHD, it was on the screen of the Neptune theater, one of the coolest old fashioned movie theaters in the state, which only made me love it more. So. Six Iron Spikes, because goddamnit, for a brief moment I believed I could fly.
The Five Movies That Should Have Been Nominated In no particular order:
Gladiator
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Almost Famous
X-Men
Memento
Who Should Win Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. I am prepared to kneel at his feet and worship Ang Lee as a god for making this movie, and more importantly, getting it released. There were so many ways this movie could have gone wrong, and none of them did. Best Picture of the Year.
That's all for right now. Until I see you again, adios.
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