by Thomas Keister
Not all that interested in the Oscars this year, as Mickey Rourke was shafted. Yeah, I get the whole Ben Stiller making fun of Joaquin Phoenix's silly ass, and the impassioned speeches by Sean Penn and what's-his-face for their wins for Milk, but yeah, no pun intended, Mickey Rourke was shafted by Harvey Milk.
Me? I like most any kind of movie. Oscar-worthy, late-night cable-worthy, barely worthy...I can usually get into one. My great love are the bad flicks. The ones Mystery Science Theater 3000 would have jumped on, and upward in quality from there. I once called off work for a day because I stayed up too late watching Sgt. Kabukiman: NYPD...what does that tell you? So the day before the Oscars was my day. The day the Razzie Awards are handed out. Usually, I manage to avoid any of the nominees, but I like seeing who laid the turd cinematic this year, as only the Razzies can judge.
But wait? You said you like most any kind of movie, especially bad ones. What gives?
Fair question, faithful reader. Glad you have kept up thus far. While I absolutely enjoy a bad movie, the nominees normally connected with the Razzies fall into the fateful category of "annoyance," those having certain characteristics, including, but not limited to:
-having some just North of Disney teeny-bopper cookie cutter bullshit single as the main point of annoyance. If that overprocessed piece of crap is the signature of your marketing campaign, you are obviously targeting tweeners, teenagers, and the guys Chris Hanson busts on Dateline. They put a knob on the radio for a reason, and that reason is Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers, and the like.
-having someone who grates on my nerves like chewing on freakin tinfoil. See Hannah Montana, Olsen twins, Dane Cook, Kate Hudson, etc. Kate Hudson once said in an interview that she cannot watch her movies. My thought? That line starts to the left sister...Dane Cook? I guess it's easy for him to memorize lines since he lifts huge amounts of material from other comics, but still...epic douche. Like if Led Zeppelin made songs about douchebags, Dane Cook would be a concept album. There are bad movies, and then there are movies that are bad for a reason.
-the same old story, that I couldn't give two shits and a fuck about. Yeah, I hear you. It's a real original argument to call out Hollywood and the rest of the film world for lack of originality from time to time (most of the time), but Jeebus H. Damn already. Just like there are only so many takes on the zombie movie, there are only so many takes on the chick flick. If you stacked up every Harlequin romance paperback and every chick flick DVD next to each other, you would have something like seven stories. Total. That's it.
Mike Myers, who seems to have figured out the proper vector on his tailspin away from funny, picked up a hat trick of awards, appropriately enough, for The Love Guru, taking home Worst Picture, Worst Actor, and Worst Screenplay. You know what they say, Mike...when you're on top, you're on top, but when you're at the bottom, at least be the best of the worst. Well, I guess you know it now. And this better not be an excuse to inflict "So I Married ANOTHER Axe Murderer" on us.
Paris Hilton, the undisputed dizzyweight champion of movies famous for no one going to see them, racked up three awards herself: Worst Actress ("The Hottie and The Nottie"), along with Worst Supporting Actress (cause when it comes to suck, Ms. Hilton is, ahem, versatile?), AND Screen Couple for "Repo! The Genetic Opera", with either Christine Lakin or Joel David Moore. That the line "Award-winning actress" can now be included on Hilton's bruised knee resume may be, other than the Obama administration's refusal thus far to investigate the Bush administration's criminal acts, the true outrage of the year. Hmmm...Red Sox win World Series, Hilton wins acting award...crap, that's two signs of the apocalypse down...
Pierce Brosan nabbed Worst Supporting Actor for "Mamma Mia," showing just how far a fall it can be from playing James Bond (for reference, see Timothy Dalton in "The Beautician and The Beast," with Fran Drescher), and Uwe Boll, the worst director ever willing to lace up gloves and fucking box his critics, won Worst Director, of course, for his trio of rectum-ground drivel: "In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale," "1968: Tunnel Rats" and "Postal," along with a prestigious Worst Career Achievement award. That's the kind of thing I'm surprised I haven't been granted one of those upon leaving a previous employer. Of course, it wasn't like I was around to accept the award...
Have no idea how to handicap these damn award shows, so I won't bother, especially when the nominees are already just a bit handicapped themselves by way of script, director, or natural God-given lack of talent. Here's to hoping Paris Hilton makes another three or four non-for-profit flicks, so I'll have some fresh amusement next February...
by Thomas Keister