Monday, March 06, 2006

Let Slip, The Frocks Of War…

A little before 7 this morning, I woke and turned on my favourite talk radio station "So, this year’s Oscar Ceremony has come to end and …", I switched the radio off.

I apologise to any film fans or star idolisers, but I find the Oscars about as fascinating as knowing that Bill Gates earns more interest with his investments in one day as I earn in fifteen years. It’s where the rich get richer and the losers consider 'going postal' in the theatre's auditorium.

The French have their own televised mutual masturbation, the Césars. It's held at the end of February, just pipping the Americans by a few weeks. No-one really gives a flying wotsit about the Césars as the French are in total awe of the Americans. To boost a dwindling public interest in the Césars, the organisers have begun inviting US stars to Paris to give away the palmarés, the prestigious 'prix du cinéma français' to it's winners. Sadly, the French statue lacks the bold lines and the 'Look At Me' appeal of it’s American version, as it resembles a crushed gold-plated Citroen 2CV.

Back in Tinsel Town, the usual male tail feathers were being wagged and the women turned up, as nearly-naked as possible. The display of capped teeth and fake tits was, in itself, an proud advertisement for the plastics industry.

According to news agencies, a few days before the ceremony, Tom Hanks (or as the French say, 'Tom Onks') was giving advice to the upcoming winners and losers. He suggested that the winners made a short but funny speech and the losers kept smiling in the face of career meltdown.

Out of a possible 24 major awards, Britain won two. BBC radio described the Oscars as 'A night of British glories …' Hang on a second, winning a World War was a 'glory' (we won 2 of those as well). People who win prizes for not being themselves is pushing it a bit. In that case, there must be hundreds of thousands of keen Oscar nominees waiting their chance in psychiatric hospitals around the world.

Another thing that makes my skin crawl is how the acting professional suddenly becomes the 'expert gob on a stick' at the drop of a hat. Here's what I mean: any national or international disaster/crisis or social incident (flood, famine, disease, scientific discovery etc), whatever subject is being discussed, a recognised and established leader in the field is wheeled out in front of the news cameras and gives his/her professional opinion.

However, after making a film on a similar topic for three months, some actor gets up and pontificates about the subject, on which they are technically unqualified to talk about. For example, after "Welcome To Sarajevo" (1997), Woody Harrelson sat at the press junket and spouted total crap to assembled journalists on the subject of covering a war as a news correspondent. This incompetent outpouring confirmed my belief that Hollywood really is 100% fake. Next time to see a movie star spouting off about a particular subject, you might like to ask yourself "after earning $4.5m in 3 months, what makes YOU such an expert?"

On the morning after the Oscars, when they all wake up in Hollywood nursing fake hangovers, they'll only be one subject on their lips … 2007.



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