Grief, at least on this planet, spares no one. Not even a magnificently bejewelled, bouffant-haired, Chanel-coutured First Lady of the United States, who is naturally expected to project impeccable poise…
For a film about the early invention of cinema, this is thuddingly, disappointingly pedestrian and at worst, superficial. We admire Scorcese’s self-appointed role as an Ambassador of Film Preservation, but Hugo is all technical wizardry and visual polish with very little narrative elegance. Take away all that gizmo, and we’re left with another fatherless boy with another mysterious key trying to discover whatever it unlocks. Something like Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close set in the turn-of-the-century Paris.
I felt the need to steal these awesome photoshopped posters courtesy of the guys from The Shiznit (equally awesome site, if you haven’t checked). Alright, it’s not really stealing, in the most primitive sense of the word. This actually makes me a bit like Robin Hood, filching these goodies to share for a good cause.
Okay, the 84th Annual Academy Awards nominations are in – and Melancholia is out. Fuck you very much, Oscars. Anyone who puts War Horse in their Best Picture list has obviously got no taste. Just because he’s Spielberg doesn’t mean they’re obliged to nominate the dude and his film about a magical pony. Although Spielberg’s got bigger PR lobby than the entire nominated films combined. America is absolutely scared shitless inviting Lars von Trier to the show, as he might give one of his precious Nazi rants. Also, Kirsten Dunst and Tilda Swinton can team up together, go gung-ho and gatecrash the ceremony with AK-47s. Those towering performances from Melancholia and We Need To Talk About Kevin are terribly snubbed.
Here be no envelopes, no leaden speeches and no trophies – but at least, there’s no bullshit given out here. And you don’t have to sit through a godawful awards show mainly designed for wussies who have virtually no sense of humour.