AKA: A Bafta-Ranta Madness!
Call me obsessed if you must, but The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford is an utterly astounding piece of cinematic genius - yep, I'm out-and-out gay for The Assassination of...
Not another blog post about this film, I hear you cry (infidels!), but it brings me on - instead - to a rant about the Baftas which were just on the TV-shaped box in the corner.
Returning to 'The Ass-Capping of Double-J by the Pussy Bob Ford' (hey, I'm trying to be street-wise to get down wid-da-keeds ... ah screw it), but yeah where was I? Oh yes, the Baftas - after a mere couple of shots in their 'films of the year' montage - criminally ignored Andrew Dominik's superb film, and it riled me up a bit.
American Gangster, which came away with bugger all, managed to get a few nods - but it was a bit rubbish to be honest. It wasn't a big pile of gash, but Ridley's done far better films, and to be frank how was it any different from the myriad of other 'rise and fall' crime biopics out there? As I watched American Gangster, I'd felt as if I'd seen it all before - however, with Jesse James I did not feel this, not once throughout it's entire 2 hours and 40 minutes of considered artistry.
My point being, why couldn't Jesse James fill the slots of American Gangster? 'Oh because then you'd have two westerns in there' - number one, so fucking what - and number two, what other western? No Country For Old Men? It's set in 1980 and it happens to be in Texas and looks a bit like a Western. True enough, but you can't really call it a western - it's certainly not its official genre classing...it is a bloody great film though, and despite the criminal amount of Jesse-shunning going on in the Baftas, the Coens were undoubtedly deserving of their Best Director win.
As for the ceremony itself, bloody Jonathon 'alright in small doses' Ross gets dragged out again (well, at least he's working towards that £18-fecking-million pay cheque) to make a series of appallingly shite jokes. If he wrote them, they're shit. If someone else wrote them, they're still shit.
Either come up with a good gag, and cease the mugging to a politely fake-smiling audience (some of whom didn't even bother with that, which ironically was funny in itself), or shut up and get on with it. At least Eddie Izzard got to rise several genuine guffaws from all involved with actually humorous material.
Also - what the crap was up with that 60 second short film winning an award?! Some guy in a Santa suit doing silly dances on a beach ... and that wins from hundreds of entries?! The extra-kicker being the filmmaker didn't even bother to show up (for reasons unknown)...but come on, a dancing Santa award - which gets broadcast (unlike the shunned shorts, cinematography and editing categories) - geeeeez.
Hopefully the Oscars will actually raise a few chuckles this year, everybody will no doubt be putting in 110% now that the Writer's Strike is nigh-on-ending ... and here's hoping that the little golden geezer will be winging its way in the direction of Jesse James & Co!
You're damn right 'gay-for-Assassination', damn proud too, ha!