Monday, March 06, 2006

It Was The Best of Times,...


...And it wasn't the worst of Hollywood, from what I can gleen from this morning's research. Yet, little about last night's Academy Awards event it seems, was a success. From the majority of honors awarded, to the personalities present, the length, production, even the lack of scandalous vitriol, it was a flop. And the vastly overrated talent of John Stewart could not have been more appropriate hosting such failure.

The Hollywood Aristocracy was on parade again yesterday, preening for themselves in a manner worthy of the Sixteenth installation of France's 18th century Louis dynasty. It was just another of their interminable balls thrown to make themselves believe that they are indeed significant and somehow worthy of respect and worship; despite the fact that nothing that they represent is real. Nor, in fact do they even attempt to imitate anything real about the nation that lends them the liberty to manufacture an endless parade of malevolent rot and reprehensible propaganda.

That being said, I must commend the choice of best Actress. Reese Witherspoon in my opinion is but one of few shining jewels floating in a slurry of filth. And Wallace and Gromit's latest film was notably worthy of its award. As I said, it was not the worst that Hollywood could offer, albeit the productions that were ignored by the Academy this year spoke as many volumes about the predominate sensibilities of the movie industry as those produced an heralded.

Now admittedly, I did not watch the show last night. I have not watched it for quite some time. It lost its appeal to me, the minute the Academy proved itself every bit as credible as the Nobel Prize committee. They managed to award Oscars in repayment for political prostitution to an
ideological cause at odds with traditional American values. And every year seemed to produce a worse collection of Castros and Kofi's to celebrate in defiance. Additionally, I simply I do not fancy ritual glad-handing plus navel-gazing in in my own profession, much less one for which I have no respect. Perhaps this will undermine my credibility on the subject. And might well it should. I would welcome any disagreement to the contrary. Nevertheless, I think all that needs to be known (if anything at all really needs to be known) about last night's Academy Awards event, can be learned in five minutes of online browsing. The verdict is clear. Hollywood is thoroughly out of touch with Mainstream America and is seemingly proud of it, as Mr. Clooney confirmed.

Yet the gentleman at
Powerline punched gaping holes in Clooney's own desperate attempt to matter to someone... anyone who actually matters.
I did, however, happen to catch George Clooney's little oration on what a fine thing it is that Hollywood is out of touch with America. This, he said, is because Hollywood is so noble; he harkened back to the era when Hollywood was cranking out pro-civil rights movies before America was ready for them. Only, no such thing happened. If Hollywood had been making anti-segregation movies in the 1930s, when they really would have been out of step with a significant portion of the American public, Clooney might have something to talk about. But it wasn't. The civil rights movies, like To Kill A Mockingbird, came later, after a broad consensus had emerged among the American people, and, thus, among filmgoers. And they continue to this day, when being pro-civil rights, far from being controversial, is practically mandatory.

The truth is that the movie industry has always had a herd mentality. Given the nature of the medium, this isn't surprising. Film is a collaborative art; many people and lots off money are required to make a movie. So it is fruitless for filmmakers to imagine themselves as artistes, living in garrets and producing unique works of genius that are out of step with the mores of the time.
So even as Clooney struggled to rationalize an otherwise pathetic and meaningless existance for himself and his class of insulated blue state Bourgeoisie, his message yet again could not have been more clear to red state America, starving for artistic recognition...

...'Let them eat cake! Poisoned cake.'

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