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I don’t know how much feedback I can give you all on the Oscars last night. Cami and I spent the weekend cooped up inside the house painting our living room and dining room, then installing laminate flooring. I’m bushed! We did, however, make a solemn vow to cease all home improvement projects at 5 PM to sit down together and watch the show.
I thought it was a good ceremony this year. I felt bad for Bill Murray that he didn’t win Best Actor. But in my heart-of-hearts, I knew they had to give it to Sean Penn. If anything, I’m glad it was a “Hollywood Outsider” that took away the trophy.
I didn’t think there were too many upsets or surprises. Especially when you consider that The Lord of The Rings: The Return of The King walked away with awards for each of the 11 categories it was nominated in.
Still, the biggest shocker of the night had to be Sofia Coppola winning for Best Original Screenplay. I stood up out of my chair in outrage.
Don’t get me wrong. Lost in Translation was probably my favorite movie last year. But a Best Original Screenplay winner it is not. I’ve read articles that indicated the shooting script was more of an 80 page outline. There was a lot of leeway given for Bill Murray and his particular brand of humor and improvising. Coppola should hand her Oscar over to Murray effective immediately, because without him, there would have been no movie.
I guess I was also kind of surprised that Return of The King won Best Adapted Screenplay. I guess I was really pulling more for American Splendor.
#THE REST OF THIS BLOG WAS LOST WHEN THEATER HOPPER MOVED TO WORDPRESS IN JANUARY 2009#
On Saturday night, I went to a midnight showing of John Hughes’ Pretty in Pink. It’s the classic tale of love between a rich kid and a girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Will their interclass love blossom, or will it wilt under societal pressure? It sounds timeless, doesn’t it? If you consider the number of laughs it got, I’d say no.
One scene in particular shows that Hughes aimed too high. On their first date, Andie (Molly Ringwald) and Blane (Andrew McCarthy) have a downright unpleasant time at a party where his friends harass her for being poor and then at a rock club where her friends harass him for being a preppy. When Andie gets home, she declares to her drunken, jobless father (who is curled up on the couch wearing nothing but a bathrobe, ick!) that she’s in love. The lousy setup isn’t the only reason that makes it hard to believe; McCarthy’s acting range consists of two emotions: boredom and a bug-eyed look of surprise. He’s a long way from anything that would make him close to charming.
Despite the acting and the writing, I’m not going to complain about all of the things that make it a bad film; it’s beyond that. It has entered the realm of it’s so bad it’s good. How can you not smile when Blane’s friend Steff (James Spader tells Blaine that he “wouldn’t be too jazzed about dating a girl like Andie.” The last time I heard the word “jazzed”, my mom was telling me how much she and my dad were looking forward to going on a cruise. Obviously, I’m being temporally centric and watching the movie from the perspective of 2004. It’s almost better that way. If not, I would have ignored the scene where Andie’s boss, the owner of a record store, proudly looks at the 78’s that she just stapled to the ceiling and says, “I love it. It’s so modern.” The biggest laugh comes from a scene involving an Apple IIE that would stupefy even today’s programmers.
Amidst blockbuster names like Ringwald and McCarthy, Jon Cryer steals the show as Duckie, Andie’s strangely-styled friend who is so enamored with her that he rides his BMX past her house fifty times a day. Cryer nails a scene where he lip syncs an Otis Redding tune so well that it almost makes you feel bad that he’s half a man on CBS.