“Oh Sister, I have such doubts!”
I’m not given to quoting overwrought (if Oscar-nominated) ecclesiastical dramas at the best of times, but let’s face it, this is not the best of times. There comes a time in every Oscar-watcher’s life when he has to accept the things he cannot change — or simply stop changing the many, many things he can — and commit to some bloody predictions already.
That time has come particularly late for me this year, just a few hours ahead of the ceremony that will finally answer such burning world issues as whether Colleen Atwood will win her third Oscar tonight, or Jenny Beavan her second. I had my reasons for stalling — only this afternoon did I complete my viewing of all the short film contenders, meaning I have now seen (or at least skimmed) everything up for an award tonight save, unavoidably, “Country Strong.” (Sorry, Gwyneth, but I’m rooting for ya anyway.)
With a little over 48 hours until the big night, I find myself in an uncommon state of disarray — my crammed Oscar weekend “To Do” list includes viewing all 15 short nominees in order to make an informed dart-throw of a prediction (stickler that I am, I held out for a theatrical screening), preparing copious supplies of food and alcohol for my second annual hotel-suite Oscar party (sorry, the guest list is full) and somehow finding time to write a final predictions piece.
While Guy has been surveying the
Amid a fairly robust non-fiction slate in this year’s London Film Festival programme, there appears to be an informal sidebar of documentaries about the process of, well, documenting — whether via media avenues of art, film or journalism.