I swear I am working on very long posts about movies and TV shows and narrative structure and how poor Ron Perlman’s skin must be like titanium by now after all these years of pancake makeup.
In the meantime, however, I wanted to post something that is:
1) the best part of my day so far, and
2) what most of my first drafts look like: corpse- and transposed-letter-heavy.
So, today’s Fair Food Fight Film is Chocolat!
This one seems to be a love-it-or-hate-it movie: either you love it for being gentle and comforting, or you hate it for being predictable and treacly. I don’t have a dog in this fight whatsoever, mainly because this movie is so useful for Supporting Actor Bingo that I’m just pleased it got made because now I can get from Nina Foch to Miranda Richardson like THAT.
I will, however, put up a fight that Chocolat is a great food movie, because food plays such a main role that it’s hardly even a metaphor any more; without any of the conflict in which chocolate plays a part, you’d still have a perfectly good short film about a lady in a snappy cloak who comes to town and makes awesome goodies in a big gorgeous montage of mole sauce and hot chocolate and almond cake, and the village loves everything and parties forever, the end.
Plus, I’m just a sucker for a nice mise-en-scene every once in a while.
Just saying.
It’s good to know that as I’m working hard on my projects, carefully trying to establish narrative, comedy gold is happening by accident in my backyard.
The Musical Theatre Neighbors are having their first afternoon party of spring. They have foregone the usual show tunes, however, and are instead dancing very seriously to what sounds like 1993-era house techno…all six of them. It’s like when Middleman went to the debauched sorority party, and it was two dozen extras holding balloons and red cups and vaguely shimmying. Cool it down there, you Dionysians!
(Oh, Musical Theatre Neighbors, Never change.)
Beware: Fassbender Syndrome below.
So, a few people have asked if I’ll be covering the red carpet for this year’s Oscars. Answer: As long as people are looking good and/or sartorially embarrassing themselves, I will be there. However, I’m probably not going to watch the telecast. Partly, this is because the Oscars are boring. But mostly this is because the Oscars are so out of control that watching the show is just painful.
Frankly, the Oscars lost me the year Cate Blanchett lost the Leading Actress Oscar to Gwyneth Paltrow. (Just look at that sentence! Say it out loud! Then realize WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RIGHT NOW.) Obviously the Oscars are overtly political, but I hadn’t realized that anyone in the Academy was actually willing to give Gwyneth Paltow an acting award under any circumstances, much less choose her on purpose while Cate Blanchett was in the same category. That’s just embarrassing.
This year, I’ve been spared the pain of watching the most deserving person lose an Oscar, because the most deserving person didn’t even get nominated. (New and different, at least!)
Sorry, Sam Rockwell.
When Moon came out, I loved it. I reviewed the movie positively, but there’s a reason I tagged it “Sam Rockwell Needs an Oscar.” He delivered the best acting of the year, and it’s a shame to see that he fell victim to the “only one newcomer every year in Best Leading” rule. They broke it for Best Actress, but apparently weren’t willing to do for Best Actor, too. I mean, I saw Up in the Air, and I think that George Clooney, as usual, delivered a great performance…that does not deserve an Oscar this year. Plus, George Clooney will get another shot at it (probably next year!); Sam Rockwell is generally a character actor, and might never again have a leading role this visible.
I’ve loved Sam Rockwell since he was in Lawn Dogs. I’ve only grown to love him more since then: In 1999 alone, he was in Midsummer Night’s Dream as a mechanical, The Green Mile as the worst person on the planet, and Galaxy Quest as Guy Fleegman. Anyone who aces all three of those knows what he’s doing, you know?
Obviously, people are ignored for exceptional work on a regular basis; that makes the world go ’round! But I was so thrilled after I saw Moon, because it was the kind of performance that wins Oscars, delivered so beautifully that it never occurred to me that he wouldn’t be on the ballot. Oh, well. Rockwell, you’re on the ballot of my heart.
ETA: From the “Not a Moment Too Soon” Files: Gwyneth Paltrow to play Marlene Dietrich. Hollywood, we JUST talked about this. Come on.
So, last night was the Ice Dancing Free Dance, which sounds a little but like everyone let go of earthly cares and blissfully flew over the ice for four minutes.
I am joking. This was a seriously earthly care. Backstage couples were clearly straining to hear that someone screwed up. (To be fair, this was a possibility. The ice dancing finals last time looked like last week’s men’s finals; skaters kept hitting vegetable oil and going down.) Luckily, no contenders fell, so there wasn’t that horrible, unmistakable sound of 10,000 people suddenly become your mom, disappointed but knowing you tried So Hard.
There was only one instance of that sound, and it came from me when I realized that Belbin and Agosto weren’t going to medal, even though their performance was more mature and expressive than the team that edged them out. (The team who won bronze had rope belts that he used as an assist in their lifts/tricks; the announcer mentioned they’d have to make this illegal, since it was clearly a performance aid. But apparently everything works once, and they got a bronze.)
By far the best were Virtue and Moir, whose gorgeous dance earned them gold. Little-known fact, though:
(They are SO WHOLESOME. When they got home, bluebirds swooped down from the sky to lift their medals off.)
