I've got sunshine in my eyes, and let me tell you...It's NOT reflecting off of BeyoncAc's Golden Globe dress. Nope, but it started this morning, coming in long, vibrant rays from the screen of my computer: The Oscar nominations, and I must say, I am far from disappointed.
Now, did I plan for this? No. Instead, I had an arsenal of ""Dreamgirls"" jokes loaded into my back pocket, ready to fire at the faintest whiff of ""Lookin' so crazy you're your love's got me lookin' got me lookin' so crazy in love."" BeyoncAc and the American Idol brigade were, perhaps, the first and stinkiest disappointment of my year so far. But now that all that Oscar buzz has been properly disposed of in what I so lovingly call the ‘Technical Receptacle' (technical awards—who doesn't flip to CSI reruns the second Sound Mixing and Sound Editing start turning to mumbo jumbo in our minds?), we the people can get back to that sunshine I was talking about before. ""LITTLE MISS Sunshine,"" if you will.
What began as the best comedy of the summer slowly evolved into a precious gem in the sediment of the winter film season. Movies like ""Blood Diamond,"" ""Babel,"" ""The Departed"" and ""Children of Men""—gifted as they may be—all began to look the same as the holidays passed. Hour after hour of blood and pressure, the tension unrelenting as a blister needing to pop. And in a country inundated with violence—on the news, overseas, syndicated on FX or ABC—an unhappy country waiting for a sense of relief—an unpopped blister could easily jiggle the already fraying tight rope.
I realize that political issues abound, and we're all worried about the future of our country, our children, our existence as a species, but this does not mean that we must sacrifice the magic of the silver screen in order to understand the truth. Because the truth isn't that we need a history lesson from some A-lister. It's that too many political dramas in a row equals blatant pretension. So many filmmakers neglect to look at the smaller scale, the little picture, and in the meantime, they are deprived of all the changing, complex elegance that occurs within a household family. This is why I wrote that column a long time ago—the one bitching out the Academy for ignoring great comedic performances. Because I want the big laughs, and I'm sick of Hollywood treating itself like a dramatized newsreel I have to pay $8.75 to see. It's not that I dislike sweeping productions that bring political and criminal issues to bloody, special effect enhanced life—I'm just sick of them. It's hard to relate to Cate Blanchett in ""Babel,"" but in ""Notes on a Scandal,"" she had me riveted, shaking with anticipation for her inevitable downfall. And on a lighter note, whose favorite movie character ever isn't rivaled by Olive Hoover, portrayed by the now Academy Award nominated Abigail Breslin?
Phew. I feel like I just chewed through a cinder block there—all that shit about political dramas and Cate Blanchett. What I wanted to do the most with this article (my official ‘Welcome Back!' of the semester) is convey my unexpected excitement for the Academy Awards. As much as I don't think Abigail Breslin will win (I'd much rather see it go to Cate), I think ""Little Miss Sunshine"" has more than a fighting chance at the podium. While it may seem a surprising choice, it is certainly not this year's dark horse (whatever that even means), and there's no ""Brokeback Mountain"" to cramp its style by addressing the social issue dujour. It's blind-fighting this Oscar season, with the only obvious choice being Helen Mirren for her role in ""The Queen."" I'm up for an intense evening of maybes and what-ifs and oh-mys. Yesterday was a big day for the Academy. I can't wait to see what happens, because now I know that no matter what, BeyoncAc (aka Foxy Brown) CANNOT win an Oscar. It's a good feeling.
