Ah, the Academy Awards. To give you a firm understanding of just how awful the Oscars are, consider this: This is the only entity in the universe that considers the inclusion of Billy Crystal to be an act of salvation. If they told you they were going to try and fix all the gaping plot holes of The Walking Dead by adding Billy Crystal to the cast, you’d be skeptical. If you were a child crying at your birthday party and your mom dragged in Billy Crystal, you’d be like, “Mom, what the fuck is Billy Crystal doing here? I TOLD YOU TO GET A CLOWN, YOU OLD HARPY.” But with the Oscars, people are like OH THANK GOD! BILLY CRYSTAL IS HERE! AND HE BROUGHT THAT GAY DUDE WHO LOOKS LIKE SWEETUMS FROM THE MUPPETS TO WRITE ALL THE JOKES FOR HIM!
People, these awards are SHIT. They’ve been shit for a very long time, and they’ll be shit long after we’ve all died. It’s four hours of Hollywood gleefully face-fucking itself in front of you, with 15 minutes of Leno jokes interspersed throughout. It’s like a presidential primary season: It’s long and drawn out and expensive, and there’s no one worth rooting for. At least the presidential primary season happens only once every four years. But with the Oscars, you get that shit annually. It’s one of the most hateable things in the world, and it deserves a Deadspin hater’s guide to call its very own.
Now, before I get into the nominees, I again remind you that a good hater’s guide is dependent on the complete and utter ignorance of its author, and I have done my very best to NOT educate myself when it comes to these awards. I’ve seen only three and a half of the Best Picture movies (don’t tell me what happens at the end of War Horse!). I have seen just five out of the 20 nominated acting performances, three of which came from one movie (The Help, which was RAYCESS). I haven’t seen any of the documentaries nominated (they always look so cheap!). I haven’t seen any of the nominated animated movies (eat shit, children of the world). And I definitely haven’t seen any of the nominated Foreign Language movies. Come on. Like I’d ever watch a movie where everyone speaks Farsi. MOVE TO A REAL COUNTRY, GUY WHO DIRECTED A SEPARATION.
So, with all that ignorance at my disposal, let’s get into the nasty business of saying horrible, abusive, possibly libelous things about these nominees:
The Artist: Really, Academy? This is your front-runner? A silent French movie? OK, well don’t come crying to me when your industry is fucking DEAD and none of your plastic-twatted trophy wives can afford to have their tits hoisted. And FUCK YOU to any movie that’s about movies. When a movie like this comes out, critics jizz on their notepads and are like OMG! IT RESTORED THE MAGIC OF MOVIES! Shut up. Movies aren’t magic. I go to movies because I want my kids to be quiet and because I like shouting at overly noisy teenagers. Bacon is magic. Movies are SHIT.
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Hugo: Oh, look! It’s another movie about movies! And it’s ALSO set in France! Oh goody! My Francophile meta double feature is set! Huzzah! Hooray! I’m so happy I could shove a baguette up my ass! Here’s a pro tip: Any movie featuring a child actor wearing schoolboy socks that go up his knees? COMPLETE WASTE OF TIME. It’s softcore porn for pederasts.
Midnight in Paris: Oh, hey! MORE FRANCE! Just what I wanted! Let’s see just how much FRANCE we can cram into this whole affair. And by the way, the people at Videogum pointed out one of the biggest plot holes in this piece of shit: When Owen Wilson traveled back in time, why didn’t he kill Hitler? He travels back in time—which is a fucking MIRACLE, mind you—and all he cares about is getting edits to his novel? What a selfish bag of shit. I hated this movie, and I’m not just saying that because this is a hater’s guide. It was puke.
Tree of Life: Listen, this movie isn’t French, but it may as well be. The French ADORED it. And it has all the classic hallmarks of great French cinema, such as: no plot, no character arcs, no proper editing, and no interest in you, the viewer at home. Here is your art, you movie-going swine. TAKE IT AND SWOON OVER IT LIKE THE SHEEP THAT YOU ARE.
The Descendants: Is it French? No? Well Jesus, that’s a relief. At least someone had the common courtesy to NOT bring another goddamn French movie to this fiasco. Anyway, The Descendants is the heartwarming tale of a rich lawyer trapped in a loveless marriage, whose wife goes into a coma and leaves him free to cruise the local Hawaiian beaches for dark, luscious young poon. Oh, and he has to decide whether or not to sell his impossibly valuable stretch of Hawaiian real estate either NOW or LATER, which is a real everyday problem, you know? I haven’t seen a movie with this little on the line since A Good Year.
Moneyball: You know the A’s never actually ended up winning anything, right? I mean honestly, it’s like trying to make an inspirational film about the San Diego Chargers. Oooh! Oooh! Get C-Tates to play Marmalard!
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close: Wasn’t 9/11 so cute, you guys? I’ll never forget that day, because 2,500 died and then I got to go on a TREASURE HUNT!
War Horse: Guess where Joey gets shipped after being sold to the British Army? You guessed it: FRANCE. Wonderful. I got France, and I got a fucking horse. It’s the perfect combination of uninteresting topics. I assume that Joey goes on to collect pennies.
The Help: There’s nothing more heartwarming than a movie that gets white people upset at other white people for writing movies about black people that also have white people in them. It’s like a layer cake of racial-flame-war circle-jerking. Have you read the comments on this post? You will literally turn a new color once you’re finished with them.
Brad Pitt: I would like to be among the plethora of critics who have praised Pitt for bravely acting in a film without facial hair. Finally, this man dared to be impossibly handsome. By the way: Angelina Jolie? She’s gross now. She’s all stringy and veiny and she’s 89 percent lip. And she looks like she claws out the eyes of her children with her terrifyingly long nails the second the camera stops rolling. Within 10 years, she’ll have sprouted demon wings. You chose wrong, Pitt. That Aniston gal’s uterus is BARREN. You would have never had to put up with that many kids.
George Clooney: He gets to nail Stacy Keibler? Yeah, fuck him. And I’m getting really tired of seeing him pose on the cover of upscale magazines with Pitt, or with Matt Damon, or with Pitt and Matt Damon. Then you flip to the article and it’s GEORGE CLOONEY SHITS PLATINUM AND BLEEDS HOLY WATER. Those satellites he put over the Sudan to “monitor” genocide? He uses them to get native tit shots. That’s a FACT.
Jean Dujardin: Oh hey, more Frenchiness! Thank goodness for that! I’m glad that the Oscars are doing everything possible to live up their stereotype of being run by self-centered, preachy-liberal Francophiles. I assume they’ll trot out Barbara Streisand during Hour 2 to piss on a Bible.
Demian Bichir: I don’t know who this is. Why is he here? His name sounds like a Finnish death metal band’s name. What’s his movie about? OH JESUS, IMMIGRATION?! Listen to me, there are three topics in life that people go out of their way to avoid: cancer, opera, and immigration. I’d rather see my children deported than talk about immigration. I bet this movie is about FRENCH immigration.
Gary Oldman: God, what a badass. I have nothing bad to say about Gary Oldman. The fact that he was never nominated for playing Drexl Spivey is one of the major reasons these awards mean NOTHING. Wait a second, he guest starred on Friends once? Really? THE FUCK, DREXL? THAT MUSTA BEEN WHITE BOY DAY.
Glenn Close: Wait, is she playing a tranny, or is she playing a tubercolosis patient? Because it looks like the latter. She looks like she weighs three pounds in that photo. John Wooden wants his death mask back.
Viola Davis: Way to accept the role of a maid and not hold African-American actresses to a higher standard, Viola! Now, don’t you feel great shame for bringing a measure of gravitas to an otherwise shitty movie? I hope you’re proud of yourself. Remember: Bobby Taylor walked off the set of Jivetime Jimmy’s Revenge. Were you as brave? YOU WERE NOT. There’s always work at the post office, Viola.
Meryl Streep: I’m gonna turn it over to our Oscar analyst Robert Evans for this one:
“Baby, let me tell you something about Meryl Streep. Sexy? YOU BET! Versatile? YOU HAVE NO IDEA. Streep’s been intimate with some of my closest friends: Nicholson, Beatty, De Niro, Cazale, Henry Kissinger. ... And all of them said the exact same thing about her. ‘Evans,’ they’d cry to me after bedding her, ‘If you think she’s good at impressions on the screen, you should SEE the impressions she can do in bed.’ Apparently, Streep was a Method Pussycat. She did hours upon hours of research for her various ‘roles’ in the bedroom. I’m told she did a Catherine Deneuve in the reverse cowgirl pose that outclassed the original by a country mile. And if you wanted Meryl to get sassy and turn Aussie on you, she could do it in a heartbeat. I remember walking through the halls of Woodland one night, with Nicholson and Streep occupying one of the guest rooms. And I all heard, over and over again, was ‘A DINGO ATE MY PUSSY! A DINGO ATE MY PUSSY!’ What a talent.”
Michele Williams: Don’t touch her! She might break! She is one of our most delicate national possessions. It’s said that merely glancing at Michele sideways is enough to send her bursting into tears and fleeing for the security of a starring role in a $500K-grossing indie flick.
Rooney Mara: OMG GUYS, LAW & ORDER: SVU WAS SO BENEATH ME. When you’re the scion of a multimillion-dollar football franchise, you can afford to have good taste, you know? The rape scenes on that show are so tacky. But the rape scenes in a David Fincher movie? SO DARING.
BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
Nick Nolte: “AW HELL, Chewbacca. Go fix the goddamn hyperdrive ...”
By the way, there was an article about Nick Nolte in GQ, and the director of Warrior said he hired Nolte on the condition that Nolte stay clean during the filming. And on the FIRST DAY that Nolte showed up for the shooting, he went out and got completely shitfaced. I hope he shows up to the ceremony covered in feces that aren’t his own.
Christopher Plummer: Remember when Plummer rocked an eyepatch and quoted Shakespeare in Star Trek VI? I do.
Yeah, thought you could keep that one in the closet, didn’t you, Plummer? Oh, I remember. I remember that. I remember Counterstrike. I even remember Crackerjack. You don’t do a Thomas Ian Griffith movie (with the immortal line “Cracker, Jack?”) and get away with it, Plummer.
By the way, Beginners is this year’s “movie that gay movie critics love because it’s about gay people without being in your face about being about gay people.” Last year, this slot was occupied by The Kids Are All Right. Some day, one of these movies will win Best Picture and Mark Harris will be able to die happy.
Jonah Hill: And here I thought that Al Roker would always hold the title of “Most Disturbing Skinny Person.” My mistake.
Kenneth Branagh: From Spencer Hall: “Reliant on the socialist British Actor’s Pension Fund also known as the Harry Potter series. Makes a living off tired British tradition of Shakespearean reinventions. You could call his work ‘Glee For Anglophiles,’ but that would hurt because it’s true and painful. Only got where he was by sucking Emma Thompson’s dick. To be fair, that’s a serious job, but a lifetime in the British theater is the best possible training for this particular Everest.
“Also, he made Peter’s Friends, the only film that saw The Big Chill and thought, ‘You know what would make this better? Making it about Oxbridge douchebags!’”
Max von Sydow: Did we mention that he played a mute in a 9/11 movie? Nothing screams out “Give me the Alan Arkin token Oscar for an old guy” move like that.
BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Janet McTeer: That Albert Nobbs movie is basically The Help, only all the black people are white people, and all the white people are lesbians.
Melissa McCarthy: I’m not sure we’ve canonized this woman’s eight-minute performance enough. Shouldn’t there be an entire wing of the Smithsonian opened in honor of it? Can’t we send her and Adele around the nation on a barnstorming tour for unconventional-looking women? I know I’d like a few more quotes from people praising Bridesmaids and demanding that you think it’s funny, and not just funny for a chick flick, you know? Because women were always funny, and you’re a disgusting pig for ever having thought otherwise.
Also, that movie was wayyyyy too long.
Octavia Spencer: Oh look! It’s this year’s “up-and-comer who wins an Oscar with her first performance and then is never heard from again”! Always a fun moment. I look forward to Octavia reprising the role of Minny in the Lifetime TV series spinoff of The Help. It’ll have twice the shit pies AND twice the police beatings!
Bérénice Bejo: I don’t know who this person is. Why is she hogging all the accent marks? Who the hell does she think she is? Her name sounds like a Parisian churrascaria. Forty years from now, she’ll die and you will skip her obit.
Jessica Chastain: You will NEVER see a more charming miscarriage scene. It’s like the lady who wrote The Help was like, “Well, I’ve managed to trivialize racism, segregation, poverty, sexism, AND domestic abuse. Is there anything I missed? Oh, right. BLEEDING UTERUSES. Check!”
Is Martin Scorsese on this list? God, he’s scary looking. He looks like the world’s creepiest gynecologist.
BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
Let’s all honor Woody Allen for pulling off a seemingly impossible task for him: writing a movie about a self-absorbed screenwriter who misses the old days. Real fucking stretch there, buddy. I look forward to your next screenplay: WHINY FUCKHEADS WHO WEAR GLASSES.
BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
Why are they giving you people a prize? You didn’t even write the source material. All you did was reformat it and cut out the first 200 pages. Even Woody Allen isn’t that lazy.
Boy, I hope that West Memphis Three movie gets honored. Because that case hasn’t gotten enough attention, you know? If you’re a black dude wrongfully convicted of child murder, you get the gas chamber. If you’re a white dude who does the same thing, you get FOUR FUCKING MOVIES made about you and a dinner date with the Vedders. No one said the world was just. I look forward to Viola Davis playing the part of Damien Echols in the feature film.
ANIMATED FEATURE FILM
Congrats to the five movies nominated here for being the ONLY five animated movies to exist this year. This field is like the AFC West of Oscar categories.
These are the people who design the sets, right? Well, how about you design a set for some other piddly-shit award show where you can claim your trophy without cluttering up my telecast?
I swear to you, if Janusz Kaminski doesn’t win for his work on War Horse, I will kill a pony. Get the fuck out of here with those weak light scrims, Robert Richardson. You were outclassed.
No one cares. You people get union wages and that should be enough for you. If you want to be properly honored as a designer, go on Runway and make a draped gown out of cereal boxes.
Hugo was 128 minutes long. Whoever edited this thing clearly has no children. And Dragon Tattoo was 158 minutes long. Because to trim just one of the 18 rape scenes would really kill the narrative arc, you know?
FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM
Poland made a Holocaust film! Poland knows where the bread gets buttered.
Albert Nobbs is nominated here? Why? They made her look like Ron Howard. That’s not an accomplishment.
MUSIC (ORIGINAL SCORE)
Way to rape Kim Novak, Ludovic Bource. You Frenchies always know how to discreetly slip a sexual assault into all of your otherwise tasteful films.
This award needs be a Grammy, and it needs to be banished from the telecast forever. Oh, what’s that? The Oscars couldn’t live without such luminous Best Song winners as “Al Otro Lado Del Rio”? Then go watch the Tonys and leave the movie awards alone.
DOCUMENTARY SHORT SUBJECT/SHORT FILM (ANIMATED)/SHORT FILM (LIVE ACTION)/SOUND EDITING/SOUND MIXING/VISUAL EFFECTS
Seriously, there are 900 other award shows. Can’t they hand this shit out at one of THOSE ceremonies? This show is 30 minutes of actual Oscars surrounded by three hours of a Holiday Inn offsite banquet. I fucking hate the Oscars.
And on that note, join me Sunday night at Gawker as I liveblog ... THE OSCARS! All the magic! All the glamour! All the sound mixing! IT’S MY FAVORITE NIGHT OF THE YEAR.