It was asserted yesterday that for All Quiet on the Western Front to win the Best Picture Oscar, “It must win Best Adapted screenplay, but that will be tough because Sarah Polley could definitely win that.”
And I said “oh, yeah?”
It was then claimed that whichever film wins the Best Original Screenplay Oscar, Banshees or EEAAO, that is your Best Picture winner. What else can Banshees win? If Kerry Condon wins, it’s over. Banshees will take the Best Picture Oscar.
And I said “oh, yeah?”
It was pointed out that a film “usually can’t win Best Picture Oscar without a Best actor nom, a Best Screenplay nom/win, and a Best Editing nom.”
And I said “Oh, yeah?”
The same guy said “if Judd Hirsch wins the Don Ameche award, then The Fabelmans could win.”
He concluded by saying that Top Gun: Maverick, which will almost certainly win Oscars for sound and editing, can only win if it somehow wins Best Screenplay, but that ain’t happening.”
HE: “What’s there to say? Okay, to some extent Fink wept and lamented as she faced the Big Sleep, and to some extent she was accepting. Most of the article is a “Nikki’s greatest hits” rehash. The only new material (at the beginning and end) is from a friend of Nikki’s, Diane Haithman, who helped her during the waning days.
“For what it’s worth, Jay Penske comes off like a human being.
“The piece says, by the way, that Finke died last October at Hospice by the Sea in Boca Raton. In fact it’s located roughly 20 blocks from the sea. It should be called Hospice by Interstate 95.
“The important thing, no offense, is that she’s dead. Nobody wept when J.J. Hunsecker passed on either.”
Last night "Correcting Jeff," one of the more dickish and obnoxious HE comment hounds, stated that "cinema died years ago, yet Oscar bloggers fight on like Japanese soldiers hiding in caves."
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The late, great Warren Zevon was born exactly 76 years ago today (1.24.47). Like everyone else I've adored his third album, Excitable Boy, since it first came out on 1.18.78, when he was about to turn 31. Of all the great songs on that magnificent and pungent album, I've always found "When Johnny Strikes Up The Band" the richest and friendliest...the most inviting, the most melodic and complex...a lifelong keeper. I also thought back then that "Lawyers, Guns & Money" was my personal theme song, particularly "dad, get me outta this."
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Two days ago I caught The Son (Sony Pictures Classics, 1.20), which I found well-written, well-acted and somewhat arduous to watch. Which doesn’t mean it’s a bad film — it’s just a bit of a thing to get through. Not a slog, which has negative connotations, but somewhat burdensome.
Directed by Florian Zeller (The Father) and cowritten by Zeller and Christopher Hampton, it’s about five characters — a 50ish, high-powered Manhattan businessman (Hugh Jackman), his anguished and estranged teenage son (Zen McGrath), the son’s divorced, worry-fraught mother and Jackman’s ex (Laura Dern), Jackman’s second, 20-years-younger wife (Vanessa Kirby) and Jackman’s crusty, tough-as-nails father (Anthony Hopkins) who’s in his late 70s or early 80s.
I've just verbalized some reactions to this morning's Oscar nominations. Click the arrow below -- 20 minutes, give or take.
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