Terry Zwigoff’s Bad Santa is hilarious. I don’t think I have laughed so hard at a film since the third time I watched Raising Arizona, and it’s no coincidence that the Coen brothers produced this movie.
I want to stop right there, but I can’t. Let me tell you two things: first, I used to teach at Prairie View A&M University, and my students there loved this movie and couldn’t believe that I had never heard of it. Second, my wife tells me that I make inappropriate jokes and laugh at inappropriate things.
Those two facts probably tell you why I found Bad Santa so funny. First, I didn’t know anything about the film, and second, I share the inappropriate humor of eighteen-year-old freshmen.
Billy Bob Thornton is the bad Santa, and he is such an amazing actor that his comedy appears completely believable. Whereas another actor may have hammed this film up, Thornton plays it like he is a character from Monster’s Ball. So I watch him curse at eight-year-olds and stumble around drunk staring at women's behinds, and I crack up. It’s so preposterous, yet so believable coming from Thornton. I must have laughed a million times just hearing Thornton say “What the f*** do you want?” or some variation to a five-year-old. It’s just hilarious. I laugh just thinking about it.
But that’s where this movie’s goodness ends and its badness begins. The other actors are terrible: Bernie Mac, who I generally like, has a bit part, and he serves no purpose in the film. I think he's only there becuase he's cool. John Ritter’s role is more important and funnier, but he only appears in half of the film (I think he died during the filming, God rest his soul). The actor who played the elf is actually pretty good, but his character’s actions are completely unbelievable, which brings me to the plot of Bad Santa.
The plot is, well, stupid. Every part of it makes no sense: a drunk bum who can crack uncrackable safes? A Santa and elf who have robbed stores for seven years in a row? Has no one caught on to their scheme? The ending is completely preposterous, as well. Such things wouldn’t happen.
The bottom line, I guess, is that Bad Santa is not a good movie. It’s funny, sure. Man, is it funny. (“What the f*** happened to you?” Hah!) But it’s only funny if you like inappropriate humor incorporating vulgarity, sex, and little kids, not particularly in that order, thank goodness. And I guess I enjoy those things…
Grade for Bad Santa: 6
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
From Nixon to the Fourth of July
From Nixon to the Fourth of July
If I haven’t mentioned it yet, I have been trying to go through the back-catalogue of important contemporary filmmakers, and today I will briefly discuss Oliver Stone. His oeuvre is impressive: Salvador, Platoon, Wall Street, Born on the Fourth of July, Talk Radio, JFK, The Doors, Heaven and Earth, Natural Born Killers, Nixon, U-Turn, Any Given Sunday, Comandante, Alexander, and the much anticipated first non-documentary film about 9/11, World Trade Center.
He has made some great films—Platoon, JFK, and Wall Street—but he has also made some real shite—U-Turn, Alexander. This weekend I watched two of his films that I had never seen before: Born on the Fourth of July and Nixon. And they’re both good. It may be strange to compare these two films or to review them together, but they share a common theme that runs through most of Stone’s movies: communism is good and government conspiracies abound. Yes, they really are the same theme, for most of the government conspiracies involve communism in some form, especially Cuba. JFK, Born on the Fourth of July, and Nixon all involve Cuban/American conspiracies, although the idea is just hinted at in Born on the Fourth of July.
It’s no coincidence, then, that Stone’s documentary Comandante is actually a glowing portrait of Fidel Castro. Part of Stone’s film-making mission is to make American government look bad (especially Republicans) and to make Cuba look good. Nevermind that he never actually takes us to Cuba: the point is that we know its there and our government has used it in a myriad of ways, from patsys to excuses for war.
I’m not criticizing Stone for making movies with disagreeable politics. I’m no neo-con myself, and I sympathize with nearly all of Stone’s sentiments (stopping way short of praising Castro, of course). But political statements and movies don’t always mesh. That’s the problem with Born on the Fourth of July, which was a big deal when it came out. The simple fact is that it’s not that great of a movie (I hope you're getting used to me stating my opinions as facts). It’s well-done, but it’s too heavy-handed. The first half is really good, but then the movie descends into a simple argument against the Vietnam War. If it had remained a movie about a vet’s ability to cope with the war, I would have been much more receptive. Making the main character into a hero makes it much too simple.
Even though Nixon is the lesser-known film, it’s the better of the two. Stone isn’t content to bash Nixon. He gives him his due, I think, and he uses the Nixon tapes as a way to flesh out what happened with Watergate. Some of it is conjecture, sure, but conjecture can make a good movie—just see JFK. Nixon is a complicated figure whose childhood and family relationships all play a role in his descent. Stone doesn’t merely argue that Nixon got a bad rap, either. The film indicates that Presidents or all people in positions of power get embroiled in intriguing situations that we, the public, would probably be better off not knowing about. And that kind of message makes for a decent movie. The editing gets confusing and annoying at times, and we can see the style of Natural Born Killers coming through, which brings the film down. Overall, though, this is the better movie.
Grade for Born on the Fourth of July: 7
Grade for Nixon: 7.5
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Monday, March 27, 2006
Dreams of 3 Women
No, I’m not talking about orgies here, although that theme recurs throughout Robert Altman’s 3 Women (1977). Like Martin Scorsese, Altman is one of the most acclaimed (and prolific) directors who has nevertheless never won a best director Academy Award. Probably rightly so, too. Don't misunderstand me: I like Altman’s films. Short Cuts and The Player are two of my favorites, and Gosford Park was an amazingly clever reinvention of the mystery.
But his films just aren’t best picture material, are they? They’re all really good—that’s why the Academy awarded him the lifetime achievement award this year—but they’re all flawed. It’s as if someone keeps interfering with his films, inserting annoying little traits or characters. Sometimes that overlapping dialogue trick gets confusing or simply grating, and the camera just doesn’t stop moving, zooming in at what seems like inopportune times. Sure, it’s neat, but it’s not best picture stuff.
3 Women is different from anything else he has done. For the first half, I was completely engrossed: the characters were interesting and the plot seemed completely fleshed out. On second thought, the characters were one-sided, but it was completely appropriate, considering the turn-around halfway through the film. The characters had to be one-sided to make the twist work. Everything changes at this point, and the characters begin to morph into one another. I won’t give anything away, but it gets really interesting and quite confusing. The ending seemed like a let-down, but on second thought, it wasn’t. I can’t say what happens, but it gets weird. What we thought isn’t the truth, and all of it becomes very dream-like. It isn’t until the end that we really understand who the three women even are, but even then, we can't be sure that it's the final word.
The film’s confusion and play on reality makes it a precursor to Lynch’s Blue Velvet, which appears ten years later, or even more so to his Mulholland Drive. It’s interesting that Altman made a film like this at all, for it’s a complete departure from any other of his films, which, although perhaps not traditional, at least have somewhat coherent plots. 3 Women kept me guessing during its second half, and I only partially feel as if everything was resolved. In that way, it may be better than a Lynch film where nothing is resolved.
Overall, this film is worth watching. I had never heard of it before, but I think that’s because of its complexity and subtlety on the one hand and its competing simplicity of character and overt metaphors on the other. It may not be a M*A*S*H or Nashville, but it's still good.
Grade for 3 Women: 7
No, I’m not talking about orgies here, although that theme recurs throughout Robert Altman’s 3 Women (1977). Like Martin Scorsese, Altman is one of the most acclaimed (and prolific) directors who has nevertheless never won a best director Academy Award. Probably rightly so, too. Don't misunderstand me: I like Altman’s films. Short Cuts and The Player are two of my favorites, and Gosford Park was an amazingly clever reinvention of the mystery.
But his films just aren’t best picture material, are they? They’re all really good—that’s why the Academy awarded him the lifetime achievement award this year—but they’re all flawed. It’s as if someone keeps interfering with his films, inserting annoying little traits or characters. Sometimes that overlapping dialogue trick gets confusing or simply grating, and the camera just doesn’t stop moving, zooming in at what seems like inopportune times. Sure, it’s neat, but it’s not best picture stuff.
3 Women is different from anything else he has done. For the first half, I was completely engrossed: the characters were interesting and the plot seemed completely fleshed out. On second thought, the characters were one-sided, but it was completely appropriate, considering the turn-around halfway through the film. The characters had to be one-sided to make the twist work. Everything changes at this point, and the characters begin to morph into one another. I won’t give anything away, but it gets really interesting and quite confusing. The ending seemed like a let-down, but on second thought, it wasn’t. I can’t say what happens, but it gets weird. What we thought isn’t the truth, and all of it becomes very dream-like. It isn’t until the end that we really understand who the three women even are, but even then, we can't be sure that it's the final word.
The film’s confusion and play on reality makes it a precursor to Lynch’s Blue Velvet, which appears ten years later, or even more so to his Mulholland Drive. It’s interesting that Altman made a film like this at all, for it’s a complete departure from any other of his films, which, although perhaps not traditional, at least have somewhat coherent plots. 3 Women kept me guessing during its second half, and I only partially feel as if everything was resolved. In that way, it may be better than a Lynch film where nothing is resolved.
Overall, this film is worth watching. I had never heard of it before, but I think that’s because of its complexity and subtlety on the one hand and its competing simplicity of character and overt metaphors on the other. It may not be a M*A*S*H or Nashville, but it's still good.
Grade for 3 Women: 7
Thursday, March 23, 2006
We Three Kings
I know I shouldn’t start a blog this way (or the way I just did), but I have been trying to figure out what to say about David Russell’s Three Kings (1999). I saw the movie when it came out, and I remember liking it back then, but it takes on an eerie prescience now that there is another “gulf war” and another "invasion" of Iraq.
The soldiers keep wondering what they’re doing in Iraq, but they definitely support their own mission to free Kuwait. It’s a worthy goal, perhaps. But the people of Iraq want the Americans to finish the job and support their own rebellion against Saddam. Bush told them to rise up against him, but then he left and wouldn’t pursue the dictator. Now, seven years after the movie, American soldiers are attempting to do what everyone felt like they should have done back then: remove Saddam.
But what has happened in the meantime? If we take this movie as the truth (which it isn’t), then the people of Iraq wanted Saddam gone. Everyone except the people in power wanted Saddam gone, and many of the soldiers didn’t want to be in his army, anyway. But now that the US has actually removed Saddam, it seems that everyone has turned against the Americans. They thought we (at the peril of including everyone in the US military) were evil then because we abandoned them, and they think we’re evil now because we didn’t. Perhaps it’s really all because we abandoned them? What has happened to make us invade NOW rather than twelve years earlier?
The only answer is 9/11.
But that’s an incomplete answer, isn’t it? A bit of a ruse, perhaps? Saddam was NOT connected to 9/11 no matter what percentage of the population thinks he was. So the question becomes unanswerable—there is no reason to invade now rather than back then, and the soldiers still don’t know what they’re doing there. Whereas they were freeing Kuwait back then, they think they’re freeing Iraq now. The difference is that Iraq doesn’t seem to want to be freed.
Yes, I have descended into a diatribe, although I didn’t want to. But I guess that’s the power of a movie like Three Kings. I intended to write about how the style of the film competed with it’s serious and often gut-wrenching story, but all of that is overshadowed by the very plot of a war in Iraq. Is it even possible to talk about a movie about the 1991 Gulf War without discussing the present war? I guess it is, but I can’t seem to do it.
Maybe next time I will tell you why Three Kings doesn’t deserve an A. Or maybe I will continue with why this film depresses me…
Grade for Three Kings: 8
I know I shouldn’t start a blog this way (or the way I just did), but I have been trying to figure out what to say about David Russell’s Three Kings (1999). I saw the movie when it came out, and I remember liking it back then, but it takes on an eerie prescience now that there is another “gulf war” and another "invasion" of Iraq.
The soldiers keep wondering what they’re doing in Iraq, but they definitely support their own mission to free Kuwait. It’s a worthy goal, perhaps. But the people of Iraq want the Americans to finish the job and support their own rebellion against Saddam. Bush told them to rise up against him, but then he left and wouldn’t pursue the dictator. Now, seven years after the movie, American soldiers are attempting to do what everyone felt like they should have done back then: remove Saddam.
But what has happened in the meantime? If we take this movie as the truth (which it isn’t), then the people of Iraq wanted Saddam gone. Everyone except the people in power wanted Saddam gone, and many of the soldiers didn’t want to be in his army, anyway. But now that the US has actually removed Saddam, it seems that everyone has turned against the Americans. They thought we (at the peril of including everyone in the US military) were evil then because we abandoned them, and they think we’re evil now because we didn’t. Perhaps it’s really all because we abandoned them? What has happened to make us invade NOW rather than twelve years earlier?
The only answer is 9/11.
But that’s an incomplete answer, isn’t it? A bit of a ruse, perhaps? Saddam was NOT connected to 9/11 no matter what percentage of the population thinks he was. So the question becomes unanswerable—there is no reason to invade now rather than back then, and the soldiers still don’t know what they’re doing there. Whereas they were freeing Kuwait back then, they think they’re freeing Iraq now. The difference is that Iraq doesn’t seem to want to be freed.
Yes, I have descended into a diatribe, although I didn’t want to. But I guess that’s the power of a movie like Three Kings. I intended to write about how the style of the film competed with it’s serious and often gut-wrenching story, but all of that is overshadowed by the very plot of a war in Iraq. Is it even possible to talk about a movie about the 1991 Gulf War without discussing the present war? I guess it is, but I can’t seem to do it.
Maybe next time I will tell you why Three Kings doesn’t deserve an A. Or maybe I will continue with why this film depresses me…
Grade for Three Kings: 8
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Is There Really an Upside to Anger?
I have actually been trying to post, but I think Blogger has been having some problems. Sorry about that. Now on to my review:
It’s not that Upside to Anger (2005) is a bad movie, for it is actually quite good if you consider all of the criteria for a good movie: it features good acting, pretty good dialogue, and a somewhat interesting storyline. It’s just that it’s rather bland.
Yes, that description is bland, but I really don’t know how else to describe it. It should be a good movie, but nothing about it gripped me. It reminded me of one of the Weitz brothers movies (About a Boy, In Good Company), but it wasn’t witty enough to be one of theirs, and it was a bit too implausible, too. Without the wit or realism, where is a comedic drama?
Nowhere, that’s where, and that’s why I have trouble recommending this film. My wife had two responses to it. Afterwards, she said that it was a “good movie.” But during, when the young daughter propositions her “boyfriend” with sex in her bedroom, my wife declared that our own daughter was not allowed to have boys in her room. And that sums the movie up for me. No, it’s not that provocative. No, it didn’t make me ponder any mysteries except some contingencies about strict parenting. In fact, the few things it tried to make me ponder were simply ridiculous.
That same young daughter, for example, enters as the narrator during a few parts of the film, and that’s where the title comes. She says that there is an upside to anger at the beginning, and then at the end she reveals what that upside is, and I just don’t buy it. She says that “the upside to anger is the people who come out of it.” The reason I don’t buy this is I have no idea what it means.
It could mean that people change because of their anger and they’re better people at the tail end. That’s the more plausible explanation. But the mother, the angry one, becomes a bitter wreck and everyone hates her, including all four of her daughters. They claim that she used to be the sweetest, nicest, most loving person on the planet, but I couldn’t help muttering "bitch" throughout the movie, which kept earning askew glances from the wife. So there’s no upside to anger there, at least from what I can see. It could be that she reverts to her sweet self after the film’s resolution, but we don’t get to see that, so I can’t assume it. All we see are the three years when she's just plain mean.
The other meaning to the upside to anger as the people who come out of it is that there is a new person in their lives in the form of the drunk and stoned Kevin Costner. Sure, he’s a nice guy, and everyone loves Fun Bobby, or Fun Costny, but is that really the upside to anger: that it attracts drunken bums? Maybe, but that's doesn't really seem like too much of an upside to me.
I guess I just don’t get it.
Grade for The Upside to Anger: 6
I have actually been trying to post, but I think Blogger has been having some problems. Sorry about that. Now on to my review:
It’s not that Upside to Anger (2005) is a bad movie, for it is actually quite good if you consider all of the criteria for a good movie: it features good acting, pretty good dialogue, and a somewhat interesting storyline. It’s just that it’s rather bland.
Yes, that description is bland, but I really don’t know how else to describe it. It should be a good movie, but nothing about it gripped me. It reminded me of one of the Weitz brothers movies (About a Boy, In Good Company), but it wasn’t witty enough to be one of theirs, and it was a bit too implausible, too. Without the wit or realism, where is a comedic drama?
Nowhere, that’s where, and that’s why I have trouble recommending this film. My wife had two responses to it. Afterwards, she said that it was a “good movie.” But during, when the young daughter propositions her “boyfriend” with sex in her bedroom, my wife declared that our own daughter was not allowed to have boys in her room. And that sums the movie up for me. No, it’s not that provocative. No, it didn’t make me ponder any mysteries except some contingencies about strict parenting. In fact, the few things it tried to make me ponder were simply ridiculous.
That same young daughter, for example, enters as the narrator during a few parts of the film, and that’s where the title comes. She says that there is an upside to anger at the beginning, and then at the end she reveals what that upside is, and I just don’t buy it. She says that “the upside to anger is the people who come out of it.” The reason I don’t buy this is I have no idea what it means.
It could mean that people change because of their anger and they’re better people at the tail end. That’s the more plausible explanation. But the mother, the angry one, becomes a bitter wreck and everyone hates her, including all four of her daughters. They claim that she used to be the sweetest, nicest, most loving person on the planet, but I couldn’t help muttering "bitch" throughout the movie, which kept earning askew glances from the wife. So there’s no upside to anger there, at least from what I can see. It could be that she reverts to her sweet self after the film’s resolution, but we don’t get to see that, so I can’t assume it. All we see are the three years when she's just plain mean.
The other meaning to the upside to anger as the people who come out of it is that there is a new person in their lives in the form of the drunk and stoned Kevin Costner. Sure, he’s a nice guy, and everyone loves Fun Bobby, or Fun Costny, but is that really the upside to anger: that it attracts drunken bums? Maybe, but that's doesn't really seem like too much of an upside to me.
I guess I just don’t get it.
Grade for The Upside to Anger: 6
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
To Eternity and Beyond!
In lieu of actually reading James Jones’s From Here to Eternity, my book club decided we should just watch Fred Zimmeman’s 1952 film version starring Burt Lancaster, Montgomery Clift, and Deborah Kerr. After watching the movie, I wish I had just read the book.
I know, I know. It’s one of the “singular cinematic experience, one of the landmarks of American film,” “the most daring movie of 1953,” “an acting bonanza,” and I agree that it is all of those things. The cast and their acting was incredible, I admit. Even though I had never heard of Montgomery Clift, he prefigures James Dean, especially the Dean of Giant. And Burt Lancaster, whom I had seen before but never really paid attention to, was amazing as the duty-torn sergeant.
The females, however, were almost negligible, and not really because of their acting. The romances just weren’t developed. Parts were good, such as the first interaction between Kerr and Holmes in their bedroom discussing his infidelity. But the affairs were ridiculous. They’re scandalous, yes, but in a very veiled way. For instance, when Lancaster and Kerr first kiss, the screen fades to black, and I think, whoa! What happens in that blackness? I assume they must have had sex. But then when they meet again, it doesn’t seem that they have because she mentions how his kiss is so great. That second meeting, by the way, is the famous romp in the sand, and it was quite a disappointment. It’s over before you know it.
The entire romance portion of the film seems tacked on, too. It just isn’t necessary to the story, which is really about three soldiers who can’t get attached to women. One of my book group said that yes, the romances were tacked on. But she was glad they were, because they made the movie more palatable for women. But the romances seem to be written by guys: the females are either damaged or completely needy, and the men feel as if they would be better off without them. The entire movie seems to be a romantic male fantasy.
I mean "romantic" as in the sense of freedom, which seems to be what the army represents. Sure, it’s its own repressive society, but it’s also a version of male freedom from responsibility, at least home responsibility or feminine responsibility.
What I appreciate about the movie is its unconventional nature. For 1953, this film was probably a breakthrough: adulterous love affairs, living with unmarried women, the debauched life of soldiers, the corruption of the army, and the conflicts within soldiers toward their own sense of duty. All of that’s really great, and I know it.
The problem is that I’m watching this movie in 2006, and it doesn’t seem that interesting. Sure it’s not a one-dimensional John Wayne film, but it’s also weak compared to Platoon. Still, I have to give it its due.
Grade for From Here to Eternity: 8.
In lieu of actually reading James Jones’s From Here to Eternity, my book club decided we should just watch Fred Zimmeman’s 1952 film version starring Burt Lancaster, Montgomery Clift, and Deborah Kerr. After watching the movie, I wish I had just read the book.
I know, I know. It’s one of the “singular cinematic experience, one of the landmarks of American film,” “the most daring movie of 1953,” “an acting bonanza,” and I agree that it is all of those things. The cast and their acting was incredible, I admit. Even though I had never heard of Montgomery Clift, he prefigures James Dean, especially the Dean of Giant. And Burt Lancaster, whom I had seen before but never really paid attention to, was amazing as the duty-torn sergeant.
The females, however, were almost negligible, and not really because of their acting. The romances just weren’t developed. Parts were good, such as the first interaction between Kerr and Holmes in their bedroom discussing his infidelity. But the affairs were ridiculous. They’re scandalous, yes, but in a very veiled way. For instance, when Lancaster and Kerr first kiss, the screen fades to black, and I think, whoa! What happens in that blackness? I assume they must have had sex. But then when they meet again, it doesn’t seem that they have because she mentions how his kiss is so great. That second meeting, by the way, is the famous romp in the sand, and it was quite a disappointment. It’s over before you know it.
The entire romance portion of the film seems tacked on, too. It just isn’t necessary to the story, which is really about three soldiers who can’t get attached to women. One of my book group said that yes, the romances were tacked on. But she was glad they were, because they made the movie more palatable for women. But the romances seem to be written by guys: the females are either damaged or completely needy, and the men feel as if they would be better off without them. The entire movie seems to be a romantic male fantasy.
I mean "romantic" as in the sense of freedom, which seems to be what the army represents. Sure, it’s its own repressive society, but it’s also a version of male freedom from responsibility, at least home responsibility or feminine responsibility.
What I appreciate about the movie is its unconventional nature. For 1953, this film was probably a breakthrough: adulterous love affairs, living with unmarried women, the debauched life of soldiers, the corruption of the army, and the conflicts within soldiers toward their own sense of duty. All of that’s really great, and I know it.
The problem is that I’m watching this movie in 2006, and it doesn’t seem that interesting. Sure it’s not a one-dimensional John Wayne film, but it’s also weak compared to Platoon. Still, I have to give it its due.
Grade for From Here to Eternity: 8.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
The Oscars Reloaded
What a strange Oscars night it was, too. I didn’t make it through the same thing, which I may have to complain about later, but I got to see what I think was the strangest Oscar moment ever. No, I’m not talking about Ben Stiller’s funny but drawn out “green screen.” No, I’m not talking about the running theme of go to the movies—it’s better on the big screen! I’m talking, of course, about the Three 6 Mafia winning the Oscar. Sure, Eminem won it a few years ago for “Lose Yourself,” but he didn’t show up to perform it or to accept the award. Eminem’s a bit different, anyway. It’s like Ludicris introducing Three 6 Mafia. They both clean up nicely, and, heck, they can both almost act, graduates obviously from the David-Duchovny-school of non-acting.
The whole music award was insane, anyway. First, there’s Dolly Parton with an uninspired song, and she’s the only person on stage! Then comes “In the Deep” from "Crash," and it’s one of the most cluttered stage performances I have ever seen. I guess the song is so boring they had to give the audience something to look at. It’s a good song, sure, but the focus was on the background, not on the singer or the song. Then came Three 6 Mafia and they had a similar sort of “from the movie” montage during their performance. And I couldn’t understand a word of it, except for the amazingly catchy chorus, which I have been singing ever since. Yeah, it’s a good rap song. Yeah, the hook is good. Yeah, it probably fits well into the movie.
But it’s definitely a departure from what generally wins Oscars.
Don’t get me wrong. While I’m not the biggest fan of rap music, I do like some of it. Some of my best friends are rappers—no, wait, that’s my excuse for something else. Yes, I do feel like a character from the movie “Crash” right now. Anyway, it was weird to see the performance and definitely weird to watch the acceptance, which, as Jon Stewart said, was the most inspired acceptance he had ever seen. Man, was it ever.
I plan on continuing this, by the way. Next time, expect to hear about the stagy-ness of the Oscars.
What a strange Oscars night it was, too. I didn’t make it through the same thing, which I may have to complain about later, but I got to see what I think was the strangest Oscar moment ever. No, I’m not talking about Ben Stiller’s funny but drawn out “green screen.” No, I’m not talking about the running theme of go to the movies—it’s better on the big screen! I’m talking, of course, about the Three 6 Mafia winning the Oscar. Sure, Eminem won it a few years ago for “Lose Yourself,” but he didn’t show up to perform it or to accept the award. Eminem’s a bit different, anyway. It’s like Ludicris introducing Three 6 Mafia. They both clean up nicely, and, heck, they can both almost act, graduates obviously from the David-Duchovny-school of non-acting.
The whole music award was insane, anyway. First, there’s Dolly Parton with an uninspired song, and she’s the only person on stage! Then comes “In the Deep” from "Crash," and it’s one of the most cluttered stage performances I have ever seen. I guess the song is so boring they had to give the audience something to look at. It’s a good song, sure, but the focus was on the background, not on the singer or the song. Then came Three 6 Mafia and they had a similar sort of “from the movie” montage during their performance. And I couldn’t understand a word of it, except for the amazingly catchy chorus, which I have been singing ever since. Yeah, it’s a good rap song. Yeah, the hook is good. Yeah, it probably fits well into the movie.
But it’s definitely a departure from what generally wins Oscars.
Don’t get me wrong. While I’m not the biggest fan of rap music, I do like some of it. Some of my best friends are rappers—no, wait, that’s my excuse for something else. Yes, I do feel like a character from the movie “Crash” right now. Anyway, it was weird to see the performance and definitely weird to watch the acceptance, which, as Jon Stewart said, was the most inspired acceptance he had ever seen. Man, was it ever.
I plan on continuing this, by the way. Next time, expect to hear about the stagy-ness of the Oscars.
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