Just think of all the tens of millions of complacent, asleep-at-the-wheel moviegoers who said to each other last night, “Wow…Anora, huh? We couldn’t be bothered to see it late last year when it opened theatrically” — HE attended a weekend showing when Anora opened in Westport, and there were maybe eight or nine people in the room, if that — “and we haven’t bothered to stream it since but maybe we should stream it now, huh? Yeah, maybe we should…maybe. If nothing better is on.”

You lazy, spiritually flabby, heavy-lidded, under-educated, dead-to-the-world sloths…Anora‘s creator pleaded with the movie-loving community to support theatres, and this message went unheeded by the masses, trust me…into one wax-filled ear and right out the other. You effing toads…you guys are the sworn enemies of great, spirit-lifting cinema…you are the empty, overfed animals watching alligators eating fair young Christian maidens in Cecil B. DeMille‘s The Sign of the Cross (’32).

Anora won five Oscars last night, and all the stupid, stubborn HE beeyotches and wrong-way-Corrigans who constantly shat and peed upon this wonderful film (including “It Ain’t Heavy, I’m An Asshole“) are eating a semblance of humble pie this morning and yet they’re still calling Baker’s film unworthy to a certain extent.

Life is wasted on people but not on me for I am the light and “the way”…HE knew and cared deeply all along….I only support the best of the tip-tops…the most heart-massaging, the most cinematically pure…and to this day I stand tall and alone against the over-praised Bong Joon-ho for Okja and especially for that idiotic scene when the drunken con artist mom let the maid into the home during that rainstorm.

Before last night no filmmaker had won four Oscars for making the same film, but Anora‘s Sean Baker did this, you bet — a Best Picture Oscar for producing, plus Oscars for directing, original screenplay and editing…boomsheewackle!

Mikey Madison‘s surprise Best Actress win blew me backward and up, up and away….whoa! I’d been pushing and predicting this for months on end, and yet I “knew” and feared deep down that the bullshit Demi Moore narrative (“Those big bad producers, agents and managers wouldn’t let me make a substantial movie all those years…they forced me to star in high-paying popcorn movies and I suffered so much because of this but now I’m free…the Substance actress I’ve always wanted to be!”) had taken hold among so many SAGsters and that so many prognosticators and award-season pulse-takers (Pete Hammond, Anne Thompson) were on Demi’s side.

And yet HE’s “don’t buy into the Demi horseshit” argument, which I posted and re-posted two or three times, won the day in the end! Okay, that plus the undebatable fact that a huge congregation of Academy voters simply loved Mikey’s performance.

Adrien Brody‘s tedious, tiresome, drawn-out acceptance speech was a reflection of or a companion piece to his unbearably morose, heroin-shooting lead performance in The Brutalist…the mass audience was saying to Brody “we’re so sorry that you won…you’re such a drag…we hate your ass…get off the damn stage!”

Brody: “Thank you, God…thank you for this blessed life…for this tremendous outpouring of love…I feel so fortunate…I have some perspective [upon coming back here after winning the Best Actor Oscar for The Pianist in ’02 and landing almost nothing but shit roles in the aftermath]….it can all go away. Winning an award like this signifies a destination…it is a chance to begin again, and the opportunity hopefully to be fortunate enough over the next 20 years of my life [to land better roles than I managed to land after I won for The Pianist over two decades ago]…I will wrap up, I will wrap up…please, this is not my first rodeo….[we are reminded] not to let hate go unchecked…okay, I’ll get out of here.”

All hail Conan O’Brien for his “standing up to a powerful Russian” joke [see below].

March 3, 2025by Jeff WellsNo Comments