Why do I even bother with the Oscars?
I finally watched the Oscars last night after a few years of just not caring. I rather utilize my free time to watch the actual films (btw, I want my 2 hours and $6 back from the makers of The Social Network). A friend BEGGED me to join her as she need “someone to bitch with” and boy, did I deliver? Being a dedicated civil servant, community worker and a purveyor of the arts with years of diversity and leadership training, I sometimes find that I’m even offending myself during an awards show broadcast. I’m an equal opportunity offender. I think my poor friend chose the wrong gay guy to ogle the gowns and flap my flimsy wrists around to every cheesy montage. I warned her that I wasn’t the right homosexual to watch this with. I mean, have you seen my blog, girlfiend? See? I can’t even use “girlfriend” without it sounding ridiculously contrived.
There were a few things working for her:
– James Franco could be covered in his own shit and talking about his sister’s pregnancy for the entire 3 hours and and I’d avoid blinking
– I do
love like fashion
– I can provide a quick witty remark for every minute detail
– I was going to being Harvey’s (albeit I ate it all myself in the end)
But the odds were against her from the beginning:
– I despise most musicals except for Hedwig
– I can’t stand Anne Hathaway
– I hate most celebrities
– I hate most women
– I hate most men
– I hate most white people
– I hate most films
– I studied film but avoided watching older movies or classic cinema
– I routinely obsess over 3 or 4 foreign or indie movies a year (I still haven’t seen Schindler’s List or Star Wars)
– I think my Chewbacca impression is dead-on
– I’m racist
What’s worse is that she changed the venue to a neighbour in the same building and they had kids. I certainly don’t like hanging out at places where I can’t use the n-word freely (ironically, of course). You should’ve seen their looks when I said Jennifer Hudson needed some English-speaking lessons. Oh come on, it was a joke!
I went out with a film industry friend of mine the other night for a drink and in the middle of talking about some recent documentaries I was passionate about, he said “it’s quite strange that you feel this connection to these stories [on film]. It’s surprising because you portray yourself as such a misanthrope.”
Well, I applauded and smiled when the awards for Best Documentary and Best Documentary Short were presented so yes, I have some feelings. As well, I was ecstatic to see PS22 (no, those weren’t “retarded kids” so don’t make me come after you) as I’m a huge fan. So there you go. A nice ending to an otherwise seething evening of racial epithets, insults and passing judgments on famous assholes that I will never meet.
Next up, I’ll cover Vanity Fair’s party at the Sunset.