But there’s no way in hell that Jane Campion’s The Power of the Dog (which is being aggressivejy junketed right now at the Four Seasons) can even fantasize about winning the Best Picture Oscar.
Those insisting that it’s time for Campion to snag an Academy trophy might be able to push this notion through, but the film itself is a rancid bowl of grim about a mean and smelly closet case (i.e., Benedict Cumberbatch). The Gold Derby kiss-asses who are projecting a Dog Best Picture win are completely out of their fucking minds.
And Anne Thompson, by the way, rating Dune higher than King Richard? That’s crazy stuff!
