
(Not-quite-final predictions here.)
176 days from the unofficial opening of my Oscar season — a breakfast-hour press screening of “Black Swan” on the first day of the Venice Film Festival — it’s fair to say I’m ready for the endgame.
Aren’t we all? Whether you’re delighted or disappointed by where the awards trail has led us thus far, it’s fair to say it offers little further room for discovery. Back in the golden days of September, pundits whittled the race down to “The King’s Speech” versus “The Social Network,” past versus present, comfort versus cred, That Was Then versus This Is My Now. And as much as I clung to the idea that it couldn’t be that simple, they were right.
The axis may have swung in this narrative across the season, and the side-taking may have become more heated in the post-nomination phase, but the fact remains that the increasingly small world of Oscar blogging has largely revolved around two films for the better part of six months. If you want to know what this looped conversation has done to our collective brains, look no further than the fact that I just quoted Jordin Sparks lyrics in the paragraph above.
One last set of kinda-critics’ awards to see out the season — the
“What is it about the British?” a reader
The race for Best Original Screenplay is full of worthy competitors this year. Four Best Picture nominees and the year’s best screenplay period make up the field, and even if there are a few that should have been in the mix, I find it difficult to argue with what squeaked through in the end.
Even when they aren’t being read out with gale-force enthusiasm by Mo’Nique, the Oscar nominations tend to attack you with breathless speed that you need at least half an hour to decide how you feel about them at all. As usual, this morning’s announcement found me bouncing from one split-second reaction to another: Yay! No! What? That? Why? Who’s missing? What did she say? That? No! Did I call that? Yay!
Tomorrow’s the big day. And there are always surprises. But rather than offer a space for predicting shockers, I thought I’d ask for your wish list picks. Name three nominations (in the major categories) that seemingly have no chance whatsoever, but are still in the acceptable realm of possibility, which would send you over the moon.
Yesterday, I
For the past two years running, I’ve celebrated Oscar Nomination Eve by assembling my own ideal (and, usually, incredibly far-fetched) ballot, so here we go again. As well as a kind of last-ditch prayer to the Oscar gods, I also look on it as a salute to the worthy contenders who haven’t a hope in hell of hearing their names read out on Tuesday morning.
A couple of weeks ago, we
One of the interesting things about this morning’s
If you’ve been with us for a couple of years, you’ll know that the BAFTA nominations infuriate me on an annual basis. However, my therapist recently advised me that I need to heal my relationship with BAFTA through forgiveness, so I’ll lead with few the things that pleased me about this morning’s announcement.
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What kind of year was 2010 at the movies? You tell me. It’s virtually impossible to find one yardstick to measure 365 days of cinema for a collective audience whose interests seem ever more segregated.
The London Evening Standard Awards, a particularly bijou set of critics’ honors reserved for British titles and talent, tend to swerve a little left of the expected — chosen as they are by a jury of six disparate, but equally opinionated, critics. So it is this year: obviously
Failing to turn on your voice recorder is any journalist’s fear when conducting a great interview. So after spending close to a half-hour with 
I’m linking to this
[Guy’s updated predictions