Oscar Blues

After dealing with a week of a pulled back muscle, I was really looking forward to some entertainment and to me, the Academy Awards Ceremony is GREAT entertainment. The performances are hilarious, whether intentionally so or not, and the whole spectacle of the show - from the red carpet entrance, the rented diamonds (and rented people - did you see Sir Ian's loveboy? me-ow!), the Cinderella dresses, the self-congratulatory montages of Hollywood's greatness - is colorful, romantic, and gorgeously excessive.

The Oscars are the only time when I allow myself to be really girly. In the privacy of my living room, I can choose who I think is the prettiest, who is wearing the best dress or suit, who has the worst taste, who showed up with whom. I can pick nominees to root for and shout with joy when they win or boo disapprovingly when they lose.

If I really enjoy the Oscars so much as a whole, why did this year's ceremony suck so badly?

I think it's mostly sour grapes. There was a movie nominated this year that is near and dear to my heart, and in spite of its thirteen nominations, it was practically snubbed. Yes, I'm talking about The Fellowship of the Ring.

Let's talk about how this movie was made just for a moment. Start with a beloved book, a REALLY beloved book, that is so long that the publishers decided to break it into three books. Let's decide that you want to write a screenplay based on this book, but the screenplay must be faithful to the spirit of the story while at the same time pleasing the fans by keeping all their favorite parts in. Now add that the novel is a dense work filled with poetry, mythology, history, and even an invented language. Also add in that the book is filled with fantastic creatures, wizards that cast spells with spectacular effects, whole armies of foul things and the scariest creatures that anyone could possible imagine. Lastly add in that this book is about, among other things, love, courage, faith, friendship, hope against desperate odds, martyrdom, destiny, and not least, the nature of evil.

Amazingly, you are not daunted by this task. Instead, you convince people to give you 300 million dollars to hire the best actors, screenwriters, cinematographers, make-up artists, costumers, designers, gaffers, grips, etc, etc, to work on your movie. You pay them to be in New Zealand for two years, to film all three movies of the story simultaneously. You have set designers plant crops a year beforehand so that the village set looks real. You have prop masters create individual clasps for cloaks and make-up artists punch hairs into masks by hand to make them look natural. Some of the actors must learn a make-believe language and make it sound as if it were a real one. Finally, after all of the make-up and costuming is applied, the actors must ACT, truly act and give believable, human emotions to fantastic creatures. When they cry for a dead friend, you feel their grief. When they are happy, you laugh with them.

And this is not a movie worthy of praise, indeed the highest praise the industry can give, simply because it has fantastic elements? I argue that all movies have the element of the fantastic! How many rogue cops are there in New York City in real life? How close does a movie get to the real life of the person on which it is based? How many people are truly so charming and know exactly what to say and when to say it in everyday life?

The movies are a collective dream. When they are good, we are transported to another reality; we are enchanted and mesmerized. Whether this is the mythological realm of Middle Earth or a romantic portrait of living in the modern world, it makes no difference, or at least it should make no difference.

Bad weather and bad dreams

This wasn't the easiest weekend.

Saturday morning, Surly's leash broke and Andy and I spent a panicked hour or so trying to catch a dog as quick and agile as a rabbit and four times as smart. I was exhausted emotionally and physically and slept in until about 11 am after that.

It turned out that Rob had cancelled game due to the bad weather that was being predicted. Andy and I did errands in the afternoon, which was clear and warm. We wondered if the weatherman had been wrong all along. But then towards evening the snow came down in big wet flakes. Only a few inches fell, but it was enough to be annoying and even dangerous. Andy and I stayed in and watched DVDs.

Sunday, we took Surly to the groomer and went for brunch at Reza's, which was quite nice. We stuffed ourselves with hummos and falafel and radishes and goat cheese. Surly looked quite nice after the groomer was finished, and he even got to play with two huskies that like to wrestle as much as he does. It was a mellow day, but the temperatures fell drastically last night.

This morning I had a disturbing dream. In it, I was still living in the apartment building on Wilson, my first apartment in the city. It was nighttime in the dream and I could see from my window bombs hitting the city and buildings on fire. I turned on the TV and saw journalists broadcasting from a bunker that was under attack. It was filled with smoke and dust and they were being knocked around by the blasts.

I knew I had to hide, so I took the elevator down to the basement. There the custodians were preparing numerous bedrolls, neatly lined up in rows, for the residents of the building. When they saw me, they explained I had to go back to my apartment and wait for the signal. They were calm and jovial, as if nothing exceptional were happening. One of them escorted me to the elevator...

which turned into a Star-Wars-style spaceship. I was launched into outerspace and flew over the planet into the stars. When I landed, 20 years had passed. I saw some people I recognized as my friends, and they were like slaves, living under a dictator and afraid to stand up for themselves. I think I was trying to rally them to revolt when I woke up.

It was very dark in the apartment and very quiet. I got up to take the dog out and heard planes flying low over the city. I froze with fear and waited until they passed on towards O'Hare Airport. It makes me wonder if everything is really going to go on like it always has, or if everything has truly changed and will never be the same again.