Lights! Camera! Action! A Sunday evening television offering in early March from Hollywood can only mean one thing...The Oscars. I don't know about you but the lead-up to that nonpareil annual occasion is a major improvement over the lead-up to most anything I can recall, particularly, the build-up to the always "over-hyped, seldom-delivered" Super Bowl games.
Historically, the "Oscars" presents all that life can offer for those of us in want of more. Dreams. Escapes. Fact. Fiction. Computer animation. Love. Hate. Friendship. Betrayal. Comedy. Sex. Violence. Redemption. Success. Failure. Intoxication. Titalation. Discovery. I can go on for awhile... The Academy. The nominations. The intrigue. The gossip. The finagling. The theatrics. The Money (of which it's all about). The competition. The phoniness. LA...lovely LA. The Kodak Theatre. The red carpet. The gowns. The beauty. The vulgar. The grace. The not so graceful. The seldom erudite. The who's sleeping with whom speculation. The altered. The pure. The awkward. The golden moment. The commercials. Price Waterhouse Coopers. The sealed envelopes. The maudlin speeches. The music. The history. The golden Oscar statuette. It's all so silly. So petty. So bourgeois. So American. Nevertheless, it's all sooooooo delicious for us "moviephiles". I can't wait. Can you? Someone get the popcorn.
Each year, we the adoring but skeptical Missouri-like "show-me" public await what Hollywood offers. We read reviews. We buy tickets. We commit to the investment of time and money and settle into our comfy Century Theatre or at home seats and say to the screen "Ok, now entertain me." We invest and expose our raw and innocent emotions to the art of moving pictures. This year, we who were interested in movies, invested in a broad pallette of silver screen magic. This year's Oscars hopefuls are varied and wonderful. From the science fiction world of Jake and Neyteri to the Iraq battlefield of war-addicted William James and back to a grumpy old man's disconnected home floating around the globe by balloons but tethered to the lumpy ground by a young overfed boy, Russell.
Of particular papparazzi interest this coming Sunday evening is the OK Corral-like standoff between two dissimilar best nominated pictures and directors, respectively, Avator v. Hurt Locker and James Cameron v Kathryn Bigelow. Avatar. The tortured story of 12' tall blue skinned native creatures from the planet, Pandora, living the simple life and suddenly invaded by the imperial looters of the dark world, USA. Hurt Locker. The twisted story of a iconclastic defuser of deadly "ieds"(improvised explosive devices) in war torn Iraq while sponsored by the capitalistic promoters of democracy around the world, USA. One thing in common, both bash or glorify the USA depending upon your perspective. Sounds like Congress is in session...is Pelosi a Na'vi? James Cameron. The Canadian director who spends more money (other people's money, opm) on making movies (about $700M combined on Titanic and Avatar alone) than what the US Postal Service loses in a quarter. Kathryn Bigelow. The gutsy Bay Area divorced woman who spent $15M of "opm" on Hurt Locker , which is less than Tiger's annual tithe to the Bimbos Not-so-Anonymous Fund. Between these two movie favorites, they are up for 9 Oscar nominations apiece.
Seems like an obvious mismatch to me between Avatar v Hurt Locker, Cameron v Bigelow for the holy grail for best of movie and director. Avatar has grossed an astounding $2.5B worldwide and still raking it in theatres in 3D. Cameron has a huge resume of film success (Titanic, Terminator franchise, Alien). Hurt Locker has been on Netflix for months. Bigelow's (a second or even third tier director of previous forget-me-not films) claim to fame before Hurt Locker was that she was once married to Cameron. Wow, she must have learned something at the side of the self-anoited one. But, all that contrast aside, I reflect back to a sporting moment as an emotionally spent 1999 USA Ryder Cup captain Ben Crenshaw who faced and pointed his bony finger at the media and prophetically stated of his downtrodden team on the night before the decisive final day against a formidable European team, "I have a good feeling about this (the next days final matches)". USA won. I too have a good feeling about underdog Kathyrn Bigelow winning for Best Director and maybe just maybe Hurt Locker wins as Best Picture. Now that would be something!
You see, I've always sided with the Davids or the Kathyrns against the Goliaths or the Camerons of the world. In the 82 year history of the Oscars a woman has never won for Best Director. A deserved win for Kathyrn is not only a win for her and for her movie team, but, more importantly, it is a win for capable and courageous women worldwide who have been marginalized generationally by the male dominated world. At last glimpse of the news of the day, we have unbridled insane wars and genocide around the world, economies failing around the world, corrupt governments who cannot govern around the world, esteemed universities teaching "unethics" around the world, religious groups who practice hypocrisy and intolerance around the world, sexual depravity and imprisonment imposed on humanity around the world...worlds all dominated by men. The world is a mess. As Chairman Mao Zedong said, "women hold up half the sky." Hummm...maybe it's time for women to show their stuff and lead. Maybe it begins Sunday night...in LA.
Marian, I'll bring you the popcorn.
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