I was driving through Texas on my way to Florida. I thought to myself, “Self, how about heading towards Austin and the South by Southwest Music Extravaganza Festival Thingy?” So, coming up through Johnson City I saw a side road to a “Sculpture Ranch.” Hoping to catch a glimpse of a real Texas sculptureboy, I took the bait. This scene is up there in the hills on the way to the ranch. Turns out the sculptor had lived no more than 10 miles from where I now live in Florida. This picture has nothing to do with the rest of the content of this post.
I’ve gotten into the habit (mostly based upon ego and self-deception) of thinking there are more than two readers of my blog who have followed it closely enough to have some notion of my character, views, and general outlook on life. Just to keep from feeling ignored, I’ll continue to indulge that habit. So, having said that, my Faithful Readers will doubtless see the title to this post and say “Hmmm, I’ve been reading this guy’s blog for a while, even when it was over on Blogger, and I cannot fathom he gives a damn whether every Awards show on TV goes in the tank and they just show test patterns. So what chicanery is he up to here?”
I was in the dentist’s waiting room Tuesday, and, to quiet the monkey mind which spins madly looking for excuses to just bolt in that sort of place, I picked up Time magazine. Among the many interesting and thoughtful articles in the rag, I saw one which caught my eye. It was entitled (now you’ll see how truly clever I am): “How to Save the Awards Shows.” It was authored by one Richard Corliss (I don’t know who this guy is, but apparently he likes awards shows). [A name like "Richard Corliss" makes me think of the Paul Simon song where "Richard Corey" went home and put a bullet through his head--but I digress]. I had one of the friendly helpful staff at the dentist’s office copy the article for me (yeah, now we are both in trouble for copyright violation).
The article/column was written before the Golden Globes show didn’t go on (at least not as previously known), but it was apparent to Mr. Corliss that the writers’ strike was going to put the kibosh on it. The author goes on to say that even if the GG did go on as usual, followed by the Oscars, “viewership may be slack because the prizes will go to films that relatively few people have seen.” He acknowledges how lame and interminable the shows always are, and mentions various ways to spiff ‘em up (cut the technical awards, let the viewers vote [see my last post, nobody wants to have the public vote on anything], put the actors in a cage and have a fight-off [really, he said that, which makes me think his tongue is further up his cheek than mine--well, I mean my tongue and my cheek, not my tongue and his cheek].
His final view is that the awards should return to their original mandate and honor (and award) popular films. He says viewership is at its highest when blockbusters (Return of the King) are involved and not critic-beloved movies (Crash and Brokeback Mountain). This year, he sez, movies like No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood ain’t gonna thrill nobody but critics. So, car chases not conversation, that’s the ticket (don’t I have a fine way with reductio ad absurdem?).
Why am I relating all of this? Well, here goes. The Awards Shows aren’t worth saving. They are self-indulgent crap by millionaires who, despite their wealth, borrow clothes and jewelry to go air kiss each other on TV and then go to parties. The lines written by those now-striking clever writers are usually lamer than listening to President Bush or Herr Cheney. They aren’t funny, they aren’t clever. Actors get up and thank everyone in the world instead of saying what they mean: “I am the Greatest!” A few attempt to be “relevant” and say some lame crap about some cause they espouse (like the continued existence of the human race or something). They occasionally borrow a politically-correct vehicle to arrive in. And the production numbers! Hollywood needs to figure it out—There’s a reason there are no Busby Berkly (no, I don’t know the correct spelling of “BuzzBee” or “Burkely”)movies now!
Okay, I’m not gonna contend that displacing “Desperate Housewives” or “America’s Stupidest Home Videos” to show dumbass awards shows is the Crime of the Century. I actually used to watch some of this boring crapadoulis. Gradually, I quit, finally even giving up on the musical disasters like the Grammy Awards. I now have Awards shows on a “zero tolerance” list along with: sitcoms; soap operas; “reality” shows; telethons. It really doesn’t matter to me if a movie I like, or a song I like, or a performer I like, gets an award (and, I think in their secret heart of hearts, it doesn’t matter to them either). I certainly don’t need the reinforcement of my taste. The actor or musician already is getting paid. Now, you might say, “Mr. Smartypants Twoblueday if Joe Actor gets an Oscar he can get $8zillion for his next role instead of the $1.2zillion he got for his prior roles.” Yeah, I just wonder if the average family of four trying to keep their house and feed the cat gives a damn about that. I know I don’t.
I think, if Hollywood and Tin Pan Alley cannot resist handing out meaningless awards, they should just do it, and maybe print a list on a website. If the public didn’t turn “Crash” into a blockbuster before the stupid award (did it win any?), it ain’t gonna happen because the set designer got an Oscar, or the director, or the movie.
Basically, sez me, Awards Shows are just interminable commercials for movies (or music, or tv shows, or plays) during which, if you can keep your eyes open, you get to see hundreds of commercials for other stuff (like drugs which don’t work, cars which get 6 miles per gallon, etc). Commercials with commercials. I’d call them “infomercials” but that would denigrate upstanding folks who make cosmetics you can’t buy in stores, because infomercials are at least straightforward about what they are.
Aha!!!!!!!! You say. Gotcha! If the awards shows are gone, it’ll just be more of the pap already on TV. Hmmm, yeah, but, you know, for all my cynicism, I think the writers can do better. Hope springs eternal, or floats.
