Way to Make Me Feel a Fool For Hating on Sandy HFPA

For those of you who would criticize, I would like to make it perfectly clear that I know the Golden Globes were on Sunday, and that the three days that have lapsed between then and now are constituted as an eternity in internet time. Regardless, I have a couple of things to say about the ceremony, and apologize for any potential redundancy.

I was actually on a plane for the majority of the festivities so I missed most of it all happening in real time and was informed of a lot of the awards via text message from loyal friends and fellow cinematic enthusiasts. Believe me when I say I am eternally grateful to them for this service and believe me when I say I was visibly stressed about missing it on television to the point that I drew several concerned glances as I tapped nervously on my suitcase, annoyed that every bar in the airport was broadcasting the goddamn Jets game (congrats to THEIR fans though).

Because of the fact that I found out about the awards either like that or from reading the blogs when I got home late Sunday night, this won’t necessarily be in the order that the awards were given out. I’m also only going to talk about the movies, because much of the TV I don’t watch. I will just say Michael C. Hall made me cry like a baby. But let’s get into the meat of it all shall we?
Ricky Gervais’s humor can be an acquired one, but I found him to be well-received in a setting unfamiliar to a host role and I loved his jab at Angie and Mel Gibson in particular. Basically I think nobody should be allowed to host award shows anymore that isn’t him or NPH. In conclusion for that vein, love the host, keep it coming HFP, two thumbs up indeed.

Without a doubt the Hollywood Foreign Press and The Academy make a wise choice in its placement of Best Actress in a Supporting Role as the first award of the night. It’s one that most viewers care about, rather than something like screenplay or technical awards, but it isn’t positioning things to peak too soon. It also tends to be awarded to an actress who is disproportionately grateful for it compared to other recipients of the awards because she and her career, at some point, weren’t necessarily regarded with such prestige.

Mo’nique is a classic example. If you had told me this time last year that Mo’nique would become a Golden Globe winner in the next year and would be a strong Oscar frontrunner, I would have guffawed in your face. I don’t know what that would have looked like but I would have done it. Mo’nique in her speech just killed me. Really. Thank God I didn’t watch the thing live. I would have just died. My friend texts me saying, “Mo’nique for Best Supporting Actress. You would be weeping right now.” Yeah. No shit!

Plus the girl looked great in her strapless beige dress, better than the rest of the army of actresses who rocked this year’s excessively represented flesh-toned look (Nicole Kidman looked like she ripped off her bed sheets and turned them into some Grecian disaster). Her speech was earnest and moving and emotionally packed, setting a great precedent for the evening.

Christoph Waltz was a shoe-in and will win an Oscar. The man was brilliant in Inglorious Basterds. RDJ for Sherlock Holmes I’m okay with, though I was rooting for Joseph Gordon Levitt, who is incomprehensibly adorable. I haven’t seen Holmes yet though. When I do I’m certain that between RDJ and Jude Law I’ll need to bring an extra pair of pants for the inevitable load I’ll blow everywhere. Tasteless, I know. Moving on.

I have yet to see Crazy Heart, though I heard that Jeff Bridges was exceptional in it, and when it does play here I will without a doubt see it cause it’s got my girl Maggie Gyllenhal. Plus having seen all the other performances I’ll say his only serious competition would have been Morgan Freeman as Nelson Mandela or maybe Colin Firth, if you didn’t fall asleep in the excessively lugubrious A Single Man.

Now the part that I’ve been dreading. Sandra Goddamn Bullock for The Blind Side. When I got this text letting me know of this appalling news I called my friend as to verify that this was not sort of sick and offensive joke she was playing on me. But alas, Sandra Bullock is a Golden Globe-winning actress. Initially I was irrationally annoyed at this, but then I had to stop and think, “Okay, well, so is Madonna.” And my perspective was regained.

But so help me god if I live to see the day that Sandra Bullock is an Academy Award winning actress. I mean, she’s funny, she’s cute, and she’s a powerful woman in Hollywood. But I regard her as possessing the acting chops of Jennifer Aniston without the tabloid drama. And I very sincerely hope I never see the day where critics are speculating Oscar potential for Jennifer Aniston.

Her speech though was humble and did give her points in my book, certainly not enough points though for me to forget she won over the allegedly exceptional Carey Mulligan in An Education, Emily Blunt in The Young Victoria (who didn’t seem to hide her disdain at her loss), and the promising novice Gabby Sidibe for Precious (LOVE her!). I’m hoping that Meryl’s able to sweep up the lead actress statuette for Julie and Julia, which was another non-surprise of the evening.

I have nothing to say on The Hangover winning Best Picture Comedy/Musical as I, embarrassingly, still haven’t seen it. I do know that Nora Ephron made a move as contrived as her scripts in ostensibly ripping up her acceptance speech as its victory was announced. Sorry Nora. Maybe make something with less irritatingly blatant messages and cheesy scores.

Last but not least, the astronomically worth-accruing beast of a film, Avatar. Again, I am one of the last people in America who still hasn’t seen it. Recently I was called out by a coworker for being a movie snob who doesn’t go into a movie without a preconceived opinion and confirmation bias to prove.

Therefore, I will say this: It is difficult for me to imagine a movie made as artfully and skillfully as Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker that is pertinent to the present, but inclusive of universalist themes, while showing a nuanced representation of a population that does not fall back on clichés of demonization or glorification. Though, I will see Avatar, probably within the next week, and will inform the masses if my mind is changed by the viewing, though I will admit, that at this point, I am dubious at the potential for an attitude adjustment.

Final thought: I'm with Brooks Barnes in thinking that Fantastic Mr. Fox should have been more seriously considered as I found it to be superior to Up.

Sandra Bollocks: Or Why I Hate "The Blind Side"

Living in the south has put me into an environment where viewers are responding with particularly strong fervor to this trite, watered down inspirational sport flick which has, admittedly, bolstered my disdain for its relatively high regard. "The Blind Side," for anyone living under a rock, is the "true story" of All American Football player Michael Oher and his journey from homelessness to the NFL through the help of Leigh Anne Tuohy, a wealthy mother and interior designer with the drive of Christian charity and semblances of white guilt.

Though I admit to be a little late on the boat with this post, I haven't written anything on here in awhile and have found myself increasingly frustrated with the amount of times I have had to explain to people that "The Performance of Her Career" is hardly a momentous superlative when you're referring to an actress whose career highlights include "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" and who brought us great franchise flicks such as "Speed" and "Miss Congeniality." To be frank one of the most excruciating parts of all of it is that her southern accent is probably the only variation on the quirky but assertive woman role that Bullock has shown us time and time again and it was probably the worst attempt at a twang I've heard since Julia Roberts in "Steel Magnolias."

In the film, Michael is able to attend a private, Christian high school with influence from the school's football coach, who sees a promising athletic potential from Michael's above-average build. Michael is depicted as struggling in the new academic setting, as his educational experience before his attending the school was faulty if not lacking entirely. Born into an environment tainted with a crack-addicted mother, a neighborhood sustaining itself largely on welfare or crime, the odds are heavily painted against him. Though as I'll mention later these portrayals are more watered-down caricatures of a reality most fans of this flick could not handle.

After a school atheltic event where Michael is portrayed as picking up after the gym to retrieve scraps of popcorn and any other leftovers, Tuohy insists to her husband that they bring him home, like a lost puppy in need of a loving home and family. The Tuohy's grow close to Michael and begin to appreciate and treat him as a member of their family and his "protective intuitions" are illustarted as beging particularly valuable to them.

As the film progresses Michael's atheltic prowess is harnessed and perfected, with the help of fast-talking, straight-shooting Leigh Anne, and he becomes the school's star football player and a top recruit for many colleges.

If you haven't noticed yet, this post is packed with plot spoilers aplenty. But the film in itself is a plot spoiler, in that, as A.O. Scott put it, it is "a movie made up almost entirely of turning points yet curiously devoid of drama or suspense." It's structured with this large conflict, quick resolution formula that is reflective of another trend I noticed in the plot of coddling its, majority white, viewers from any harsh realities of urban poverty, systemic inequalities, or human suffering. The film bolsters the incorrect attitude that isolated acts of charity are a sustainable and inspirational means at creating social change.

It also demonstrates the point that the only way for poor, urban, black children to succeed in our stratified society is for them to be taken under the wing of the white majority and to adapt to the dominant culture. And they will only be successful in doing so if they show an interest and talent in the athletic arena, highlighting the theory by Michigan State sociologist Ronald E. Hall in his essay, "The Ball Curve: Calculated Racism and the Stereotype of African American Men." Protective instincts? Athletic exception? Is this a person we're referring to or a golden retriever?

When I've discussed this criticism of the film's inspirational message being contingent on an attitude embedded in racism people have told me that that is the reality of the situation and that that gives the film a higher degree of merit because of its relation to truth. Whether or not that is the case is disputable but if it is then I don't find it to be inspirational I find it to be more depressing than anything. And it furthers the point that the film is designed for white viewers to distance themselves from their position of privilege by making them think that this isolated act is a groundbreaking tale of the possibility for goodness.

Though some people have tried to convince me that my disdain for this film comes from my inability to appreciate sports dramas I can just say that when John Lee Hancock made a less superficially offensive sports drama that I, in the right mood, could cry upon viewing, "Remember the Titans," I appreciated it for what it was and did not dispute its value as an inspirational story dealing with issues of race, athletics, integration, etc. But "The Blind Side" is a story too pat and unwarrantedly acclaimed to ever give me any reaction aside from distaste and boredom.