Oscar Bait

So it appears as though the Oscar season is upon us....
Yes, friends, the Oscars. Everything done in Hollywood between the months of September and December is really just in anticipation of this yearly brouhaha. Careers can be made on a simple Academy Award nomination, and a WIN is like getting a permanent stamp on your forehead that reads "I'm talented." Get yourself one of them fancy Oscar statues, and you know for certain that you are respected by your peers, and that studios will give your fairly reliable work for the rest of your life. Seriously -- just look at Ben Kingsley. He had one really great role back in the 80s, and continues to star in multiple movies each year, even though they're almost all terrible. That's the power of Oscar!

(Yeah, I think a gold statue is better, too.)

Therefore, it makes sense that every actor in the business drools over the possibility of winning an Academy Award. That's JOB SECURITY, man! Especially for the women, who know that once they get past 35, they're going to need a little extra OOOMPH to keep working. See, decent roles for ladies in the movie industry are always in short supply, and the few that are available will almost always go to a hot, young chick...unless, of course, she's up against an OSCAR WINNER, in which case the advantage may just tilt the other way. You can tell how helpful an Oscar can be to a woman's career just by watching how desperately the younger actresses will campaign for them around this time of year. They know that winning one early will have them sitting pretty for decades. For example, I remember when my favorite, Keira Knightley, was nominated for Pride and Prejudice back in 2005. As soon as that nom was announced, she was ALL OVER the entertainment media, showing up on the late night talk shows and being photographed at Hollywood parties. Ms. Knightley may have claimed that she had no hope of actually winning, but I could tell that she lusted after golden statue with the intensity of a thousand suns and would do anything to get it. Of course, she didn't win...but that's OK -- a nomination ALONE has enabled the lovely lass to continue working in fairly respectable indie films back in the UK since then, and I'm glad for her.

And she's not the only one who's behaved in such a manner. At one point or another, EVERY actor takes a stab at winning an Oscar, and one way you can tell is by the particular roles they take. Acting in a drab 19th century English drama? Probably an Oscar attempt. Playing a drug addict with AIDS or a mental illness?? Almost certainly, that's an Oscar attempt. How about portraying a retired celebrity during his darkest days in a sweeping biopic??? Without question, THAT'S an Oscar attempt!

Sean Penn is my favorite example. Remember I Am Sam? Holy mother of God, was I amazed at how obvious of an Oscar play THAT was! Same goes for Dead Man Walking and, of course, Milk, for which he won. By the time that last one came out, Hollywood was just like, "ALL RIGHT, Sean! We get it. We'll give you your darn Oscar. YOU CAN STOP NOW!!!"

Anyway, the irony of all this is that fact that the average movie goer doesn't really care about who wins an Academy Award at all. It's really more of an industry thing. I mean, just take a look at the films that usually get nominated for Best Picture -- they're hardly blockbusters. In fact, for a few years now, I've noticed that the less commercially viable a film is, the greater its chances of receiving a nod. That is, if mainstream America can relate to it, there's no chance the picture will be taken seriously by the elites. Not even the drab English Jane Austen movies work so well anymore; you've got to be OUT THERE , man!

And with that in mind, I am pleased to announce today that I have my own plans to make an Oscar bait film. Yes, sir -- I'm going to write, produce, direct, and star in a motion picture whose sole purpose is to win an Academy Award. Every Oscar bait element will be thrown into this dramatic hodgepodge: sweeping vistas, disease, drugs, rape, racism, gayness, union struggles, disabilities, sexism, domestic abuse, classic rock n roll, alcoholism, abortion, World War II, and of course, lots of men crying.

In The Story Of Frida, I will play Frida -- a gay, wheelchair-bound, mentally handicapped transvestite, struggling to repair a broken relationship with an alcoholic stepfather (Clint Eastwood), who is also gay and dying of AIDS. Meanwhile, my redneck white supremacist brother (played by Phillip Seymore Hoffman) plots to blow up the very abortion clinic where, as we learn, his own daughter (Hillary Swank) works as a counselor. One day, a schizophrenic black woman (Halle Berry) appears at our home and reveals that -- bum-bum-BUUMM -- she's actually our real father, who received a sex change in the 80s after contracting some kind of cancer. Alcoholic stepdad confirms this, and the film goes into a series of flashbacks in which the story of our mother (Meryl Streep) is retold. Seems that she was a 1960s counterculture radical and labor union leader who was killed by riot police during a bra-burning rally in the late 70s.

WELL....

As it turns out, our mother actually had another son we never knew about, so the entire family goes on a cross-country road trip, a-la Little Miss Sunshine, to find him. Along the way, Stepdad relives his World War II memories in a series of moving flashbacks, and Frida gets viciously beaten by a mob of homophobes in a bar. When we catch up with our long-lost brother (Don Cheadle), we learn that he is a heroin-addicted black supremacist about to do time for a murder he did not commit. Seems a racist cop (Matt Damon) has framed him for killing a white woman (Reese Witherspoon) who, as it's later revealed, HE actually raped. The film culminates with an emotionally-explosive courtroom scene, while stepdad passes away in a hospital bed next to his granddaughter (Swank) who, we find out, was badly injured in the abortion clinic bombing organized by her own father. The whole thing ends with Phillip Seymour Hoffman crying in the arms of a nun (Kate Winslet) as the sun sets over a snow-blanketed cemetery.

Fin.


How's that sound? I tell you, if we make this baby right, then the 2011 Academy Awards will be OURS! Anyone want to invest??? Just e-mail me.

Anyway, here's a film that probably had little chance of qualifying for an Oscar...or any other award, for that matter.

Downloading Nancy (2008)
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0411323/



Netflix description:
Sick of her life, housewife Nancy (Maria Bello) just wants it to be over and done with, but rather than kill herself, she hires a stranger from the Internet to do the job for her. But fate takes a strange turn when she meets her killer (Jason Patric) and the two fall in love. Of course, Nancy realizes that love and murder do not naturally go hand in hand. Rufus Sewell and Amy Brenneman also star in this thriller.

Downloading Nancy is about a bored, mentally-unstable housewife named Nancy who starts having an affair with a guy on the internet. Her businessman husband, you see, is sort of cold to her, so that makes it OK for her to mess around.

Anyway, Nancy finally agrees to meet up with her internet fling in person, but only after he promises to KILL her once they're done...you know..."having their fun." Through flashbacks to scenes involving Nancy's psychotherapist we learn that she's incredibly messed up due to some nasty business in her distant past, and hubby just ain't got no sympathy. Problems arise with Nancy's little plan of suicide by internet creep, however, when it turns out that said creep actually likes her. WILL Nancy find the courage to leave her husband and stay with the new guy? HOW will hubby's golf course development work out???

OK, there are several problems with Downloading Nancy. First of all is the title -- a name like "Downloading Nancy" sounds intrinsically comedic to me, only appropriate for a film that's at least A LITTLE funny, and this picture is most certainly NOT funny in any way (not even subversively). Secondly, it's just too depressing. Nancy never shows the slightest hint of charisma or intelligence; the scenery is constantly gray and dull; and everything moves at a slumber-inducing pace (in fact, I did struggle to stay awake through parts of this one). Now, perhaps this second issue was actually the filmmaker's INTENT to make us sympathize with poor Nancy's raging depression, but I still think it was a mistake. I find films about mental illness to be far more effective when I'm not suckered so far into the hero's psychosis that I feel like I'm having the same problem. There's no need to make the audience feel like it's in a murky, miserable dream just because that's how Nancy feels; doing so just turns the picture into a downer for everyone.

I mean, MY GOD, this movie is dark. And, quite frankly, I just found it difficult to care about Nancy, in general. She's hardly a likable character, what with all the pouting and moping and wrist cutting and stuff. Sure, if someone I know in person is acting like her, I feel very bad; but some chick in a movie with no apparent personality traits beyond depression??? GetOUTTAhere! Let her get hit by a bus, for all I care. Furthermore, I wasn't interested in a kidnapping plot involving Nancy's husband that develops late in the second act. Too little, too late.

I do have to give credit to Maria Bello, however, for turning out one heck of a performance. She may only be tasked with portraying a handful of emotions here, but she does so with a wild passion and well-developed skill. On the rare occasions when Nancy must show any sign of life, it's crazed and desperate, and I chalk that up to Ms. Bello, who really deserves much better than this.

Otherwise, Downloading Nancy is just a drag. As mentioned above, I half-expected it to be a dark comedy, and still believe the film could have worked much better had that been the case. Throw in a few oddball moments that we can at least LAUGH at! Give us a little releif, PLEASE!!! Unfortunately, that never happens, and in the end there's really little reason to watch this one. Overall, Downloading Nancy is just a waste of bandwidth.

Nyuk Nyuk.

2 out of 5.

b.