There was a time when I got excited for the Oscars.
That was back in the salad days, when I actually made it to the movies more than, say, twice in a year.
Sadly, for the past couple go-’rounds, I’ve seen maybe two or three of the buzz-makers, max — a far cry from that past life, when I’d have watched them all.
It’s a bummer for a couple of reasons. A). I like films and miss having the time and energy to go to the theater to see them. And B). It makes being righteously indignant over the Academy’s choices much more difficult.
This year, though I have seen a handful of the nominated films, I’m mostly going in blind, much as I did in 2019.
Then, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences told me “Green Book” was the best movie of the year and I had to just sit there and take it, since I’d only seen a fraction of the competition. I mean, I knew it was a lie, but I couldn’t make a fully informed argument.
Not until they were all available on pay-per-view anyway, and by then it was too late.
I fear the same thing will happen on Feb. 9, when it’s looking more and more likely that Oscar voters will judge “Joker” to be a far better film that it actually is.
But having only so far managed to also see “Marriage Story,” “Once Upon A Time … In Hollywood” and “The Irishman,” I’ll be forced to keep my non-movie-going mouth shut once again.
Like, I know they’re going to get it wrong — but I won’t be able to prove it.
Oh, how I wish I could stay up past 9 p.m. And that the Warner was still open. Then I might actually have a shot at being prepared.
Even if I could break away from the cleaning I promised myself I’d spend today doing, I’d only be able to scratch “1917” off the list, as it’s the one nominee left in our theaters.
As it stands, I’ll probably skip tuning in to the show altogether and settle for occasional check-ins to the Oscars site to see who’s picking up acting trophies and red carpet updates from E! on my phone.
I feel like at least any gripes there I can back up.
I mean, I already know hat Lupita Nyong’o was robbed.
Her turn in “Us” should have nabbed her a Best Actress nod, no question.
And, please. I know a bad dress when I see one. No need to bite my tongue in that department.
Unfortunately, even that part of the ceremony has lost a bit of its fun these days, as celebrity stylists generally keep the really big mistakes at bay. I miss Bjork in her swan dress, or Cher in her spiked Bob Mackies.
Perhaps I’ll just rewatch old episodes of Catfish instead — a show where, no matter what the big reveals turn out to be, my frustration always feels 100% justifiable.
Katie McDowell is a copy editor/lifestyles writer/closet Catfish fan. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.