Annie Proulx writes at The Guardian about “how her Brokeback Oscar hopes were dashed by Crash”, and is in general a bitter, pontificating, reductionist cow. It’s rather pathetic.
“Roughly 6,000 film industry voters, most in the Los Angeles area, many living cloistered lives behind wrought-iron gates or in deluxe rest-homes, out of touch not only with the shifting larger culture and the yeasty ferment that is America these days, but also out of touch with their own segregated city, decide which films are good. And rumour has it that Lions Gate inundated the academy voters with DVD copies of Trash – excuse me – Crash a few weeks before the ballot deadline.”
Thanks for the newsflash Annie, but I kind of abandoned the idea that award shows like the Oscars or Grammies actually reflected what I thought was good at around the age of fourteen. For your reference, that was also about nine years after I stopped doing kindergarten-level snarks like the one you just did about Crash. Here’s a tip for when you become a big girl – decide whether or not you care about Hollywood’s approval before it hands you a result you don’t like, and maybe then your bitching and whining might be worth something.
“There came an atrocious act from Hustle and Flow, Three 6 Mafia’s violent rendition of “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp”, a favourite with the audience who knew what it knew and liked. This was a big winner, a bushel of the magic gold-coated gelded godlings going to the rap group.”
This is quite amusing. One, the last sentence is hilariously, Bulwer-Lyttonesquely, bad. Two, the entire excerpt sounds like the sort of statement that would come from, say, someone living a cloistered life behind wrought-iron gates or in a deluxe rest-home, out of touch with the shifting larger culture and the yeasty ferment that is America these days.