Little Kiwi and Bauhaus

Little Kiwi and Bauhaus
A Boy and His Dog

Sunday, 15 March 2009

Oscar Travesties

No, I'm not talking about the horrendous lapses in reason and judgement that allowed Crash (in the simplistically pandering tradition of The Shawshank Redemption and Dead Poets Society), Gladiator (swords, and sandals and blood, OH MY!), and Braveheart (historical inaccuracy at its zenith) to snag the coveted Best Picture statuette. I'm talking about those hideous song and dance numbers. And I'm not actually talking about the ones Hugh Jackman performed this year, which have their defenders and detractors in equal measure. I thought they were "ok" at best, and uninspired (musically) at their least. But by no means all-out travesties. Plus, dude is sexy and I don't mind watching him shake it one little bit.
No, my friends. For a real travesty, you must think back 20 years, in that dark dark time known as the 1980's. An era where Pia Zadora was a common fixture at A-list galas. When every year, a studio produced a feature length vehicle for the talents of Shelly Long. Women's shoulders couldn't be padded enough, there was no dress that could not benefit from more sequins being sewn on, and America was being run by an administration that never once mentioned the word AIDS. (See? I can never resist throwing in sociopolitical commentary, it's just who I am)
But then one Oscar night.....this abomination was unleashed on an unsuspecting public. It literally blows the mind with its sheer awfulness. On the plus side, it does cross over into the territory of the So Bad It's Good guilty pleasure. Like a Joel Schumacher wet-dream gone horribly wrong (as if a Joel Schumacher would be anything BUT horribly wrong anyway....) it simply must be seen to be believed.

Some Points of Interest:
1. Who the FUCK is this disaster that's playing Snow White, how many cocks did she suck to get this gig, and where is she now???
2. Who cobbled together this 'medley'? It's not witty, it's not aurally-pleasant, and nobody in that auditorium (or watching at home) is the least bit impressed.
3. Look at Sigourney Weaver at the 1:20 mark. She deserves an award for forcing that smile, while her eyes say "Bitch, if your no-talent ass dares to interact with me I will CUT YOU! I am ELLEN FUCKIN' RIPLEY!"
4. Just when you think it can't get any does. This is fucking hideous. Did a softly-retarded fifth-grader rewrite the words to these songs? Oh! Now they're parading out old-time Hollywood stars amidst this gaudy 80's puke festival, shitting on the concept of nostalgia.
5. At the 3:10 mark...Cyd Charisse!! Looking as lovely as ever, and bringing the sole touch of grace to this debacle. Well done, you.

And on and on and on and on..Rob Lowe and Snow White? Singing a horridly written nonsense version of Proud Mary (of all things)? Who thought this was a good idea?

So, yeah. Even if you didn't like the musical numbers of the past Oscar ceremony, at least we can take solace in knowing that it wasn't as bad as this.
Oh "Memories of my Hollywood" indeed.

Love, Little Kiwi

Little Kiwi Loves Bauhaus

Little Kiwi Loves Bauhaus
Good Dog!