By Jeff Girod
Recent winners for Best Picture have included The Artist, The King’s Speech and Slumdog Millionaire. If you haven’t seen any of them, look at the bottom of Walmart’s clearance bin. Just make sure the cashier can break a $5.
Last year’s Best Picture, The Artist, is a black-and-white French film, with subtitles, set in the 1920s. Any one of those descriptions by itself is enough to send me screaming from a theater like Lance Armstrong at a drug test.
I realize that there will always be quality movies we can’t agree upon. What I can’t accept is that every Best Picture winner should be French or British, feature a 75-minute death scene and be something I wouldn’t watch if you Super Glued my eyelids to Roberto Benigni’s ass.
Amour, about two dying French people who are 80 years old (with more subtitles!) is nominated for 5 Oscars—including Best Picture, Best Writing, Best Actress and Best Director. Amour also earned about $68,000 its opening weekend, which is less than the cost of a Winnebago. And at least in a Winnebago I can drive somewhere beautiful and interesting like the Grand Canyon.
The Avengers, starring the Hulk, Iron Man, Captain America and Scarlett Johansson’s ass, earned about $208 million during its opening weekend and more than $623 million overall. It’s nominated for one measly Oscar — for Best Achievement in Visual Effects.
Now I’m not saying the The Avengers is a better movie than Amour . . . Wait a minute, that’s exactly what I’m saying. It’s why The Avengers has been on every 7-Eleven cup, cereal box, beach towel and lunchbox since its release. It’s also why, for Halloween, everyone dresses up as Captain America and no kid will ever trick or treat as Georges, the French octogenarian from Amour, whose abiding love for his wife is put to its test after she suffers a paralyzing stroke.
Just typing that synopsis caused a paralyzing stroke. How can anyone keep throwing this unintelligible crap on stage and handing it a trophy? Either we’re all so completely uncouth and off base about which movies are good, or the voting members of the Academy are a bunch of elitist, out-of-touch, America-hating dickwads.
Does it make me less cultured and unintelligent because I don’t like foreign films? Fuck you. I’m sure other countries have produced a decent movie or two. But c’mon. Most foreign films suck.
Don’t believe me? Here’s 21 words for you: Robert De Niro, Al Pacino, Tom Hanks, Johnny Depp, Jack Nicholson, Marlon Brando, Meryl Streep, Leonardo DiCaprio, Morgan Freeman, Denzel Washington. Those are the top 10 actors of all time, according to reality and common sense.
Notice what else they all have in common. They’re all Americans. Why? Because American movies are better. Shut up. They’re just better.
Our stunts and special effects are better, our acting is better, our scripts are better, our soundtracks, jokes and swearing are better. Even our nudity is better because there’s no unsightly armpit hair.
What do they call film awards in other countries? Who cares? Nobody gives a flying crap if you win Best Actor in Peru. Give me a freaking break. You could fit all the decent Peruvian actors inside a bucket of popcorn.
And don’t think for a second that other countries don’t know their movies suck. Oh my god do they suck. That’s why Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are internationally famous and nobody outside of Norway has ever heard of Andrine Sæther. (I had to Google it just to find the “æ” symbol. Though who could forget Andrine Sæther’s work in the popular Budbringeren, a role for which she received an Amanda nomination, which apparently is something people win in Norway.
You want to make the Academy Awards relevant? Have a minimum box office gross to receive a nomination. Don’t clear $100 million in box office sales? No tickie for this awards show.
Or add some new categories: Best Use of a Mid-Air Twin Helicopter Explosion, Best cameo by Burt Reynolds or instead of Best Actress: Best Actress Side Boob.
I wonder how you say “side boob” in French.
Contact Jeff Girod at email@example.com.