My Oscar Buzz

Let me brag and say that I have watched four of the five Academy Award nominees for Best Picture. I know this might not mean a lot to the geeks (and I use that term with admiration) out there, but hey, this is me talking, and I've never been that much into movies until fairly recently. I have yet to watch Michael Clayton, but here are my two cents' worth on the four that I've seen, so far:

1. Atonement- I might go so far as to say that the movie is better than the book. Ian McEwan's prose should be lauded for its intricateness but more often than is acceptable, the words and paragraphs tend to go over the boundaries of tightness and spill out into overstatement. The plot is riveting, though, and the movie succeeds in capturing both the excitement of the story and the gamut of emotions felt by the characters. Freed of the excessive expositions, the film is held in check at the seams and the actors' portrayals blend well with the setting, the plot and the themes.

2. Juno- please see review in previous blog entry. Thanks.

3. No Country For Old Men- the film's victory over the others is well-deserved. I am guessing that the chances of the regular movie-goer liking this film is low, and that should be warning enough that this is definitely not your "typical" blockbuster hit (will it be a hit, I wonder?). It has almost no score, very quiet except for a few, paltry but well-written lines here and there, has lots (as compared to the minimal script) of gunshots, and pools of blood staining the desert sands, the streets, the floors, the sheets, the clothes. The film completely overturned my expectations in that the man I was rooting for during the chase unceremoniously dies in the middle, the protagonist never captures the villain, who disappears without a trace, leaving me positively clueless of his whereabouts, or what it is that fate has in store for him. Javier Bardem is spectacularly creepy in the movie and his acting should be reason enough to make the film worth your time.

4. There Will Be Blood- My only take-away from this movie is that Daniel Day Lewis can act. And I mean, really act. And really, that is all I have to say. I guess I'd have to watch the film one more time. And then one more, after that.

Jackie knows Laura I. Wilder's family tree. She's read LITTLE WOMEN and is currently devouring L. M. Montgomery's ANNE series. She is 8 years old.

Kim is a pro at Gameboy, Play Station and Xbox games. He makes a hundred faces in one day. He is 6 years old.

Together, they make Mommy's world a more beautiful place.

Conan and Jay on the Rewind

And The Writers' Strike is finally over. (I felt the need to write it as a proper noun--it's become such a phenomenon over the past months, as most everyone will agree, and considering the effect it had on the American entertainment industry).

The great Conan O'Brien, without his writers but armed with his Harvard degree in History and Literature, managed to make do with slapstick, stupidly innovative gadgets and laughter-inducing brouhaha. His ever-reliable wit, not to mention his tall, lanky frame and cartoonish face crowned with that pompadour-like red hair, pocked with those beady eyes, that longish nose and those strip-thin lips (I have a feeling that one day, not long ago, he suddenly had this urge to strip off his mouth and sketch on a new pair of lips!) got him through those trying times.

And Jay Leno, undoubtedly my favorite among the three late night talk show hosts (I'm not much for David Letterman--there's simply too much sarcasm in his humor that leaves a sour taste), remained his old, hefty, understatedly funny self. He didn't have to resort (much)to antics and stuff; though without Conan's comical looks, his, uhm, sizeable chin and spectacularly down-to-earth (oxymoron, anyone?) way of delivering his punch-lines more than made up for the absence of the organized script.

So these two hosts have yet again proven that they are forces to contend with, and that they could stand on their own, much to the satisfaction of the late night talk show addict.

It's no different year, after year, after year. The weary sigh in defeat--they know they won't get any flowers, just like last year; the cynical roll their eyes in (feigned) disgust; the blase (haha) shrug their shoulders; and the young--oh, the young--shiver in anticipation (ugh), starry-eyed, ignorant. Foolish.

You probably know what i'm talking about, yadda, yadda, yadda.