Monday, January 24, 2005


The True Highest Honor In Hollywood

The 2005 Razzie nominations are up. And, since I have seen only one of these films, I feel like I shouldn't be qualified to talk about them at all. And yet, I shall. Funny, that.

My picks:

Worst Picture: There's no way Alexander won't win this, okay. Don't talk to me about how Catwoman raped its source material, or how Baby Geniuses 2 resurrected a franchise no one wanted to see dug up, or how Surviving Christmas demonstrated the hollow shell that Ben Affleck's career has become, or how White Chicks somehow managed to racist towards both black people and white people. Because none of them did any of that for three and a half hours. Also, Surviving Christmas had Tony Soprano whacking Affleck over the head with a shovel, which should not only disqualify it from the running, but earn it some sort of humanitarian award.

Worst Actor: While I would love so very much for Dubya to win this honor, he's in the same category as someone from Alexander, and Oliver Stone's touch destroys all. But none of that compares to the fact that they are in the same category as someone whom the populous will kick in the nutsack of the soul at every available opportunity. Sorry, guys, but when up against Affleck, you had no chance.

Worst Actress: Do you want to imagine what it was like listening to Angelina Jolie in Alexander? Here's a simulation: Pick up Atlas Shrugged, or a similar collection of Objectivist jargon. Read it aloud, to yourself, in the worst Natasha Baddenov imitation you can dream up, at varying intervals, for three and a half hours. That, my friends, is Angelina Jolie's great contribution. Then again, Halle... well, do I need to say anything else about Halle Fucking Berry? Not to mention that Catwoman was a post-Oscar choice. I'd say that the two are tied, but I'd put my odds on Angelina for a surprise victory.

Worst Screen Couple: Tell me, folks: Was anything more cringeworthy than seeing the president of our nation reading a children's book for seven minutes while our country was under attack? If Fahrenheit 9/11 is getting "punished" for anything, then it's this. All the other "couples" had some sort of chemistry. To be honest, I'm surprised Alexander and Roxanne isn't on the list, as that sex scene came rather close to being a particularly bad treatise from Camille Paglia. So, Bush and My Pet Goat will probably win this category, if only because Bush has to get pimpslapped for something.

Worst Supporting Actress: While it would be strangely fitting if Britney Spears got this award for uttering only two lines (the gumsnap has to count as its own distinct line), they'd probably brain Sharon Stone over the head with this if it wouldn't result in assault charges. As such, they'll probably inscribe a message on the base: "Dear Sharon: 1992 ended in 1992. Step away from the Basic Instinct sequel, take over MENSA, start a komodo dragon farm, whatever. Just don't act. Please. Love, Hollywood."

Worst Supporting Actor: Nothing really stands out to me. I'll have to go with Jon Voight, if only because a) he's fallen very fucking far, and b) it's the set-up for a good father-daughter reunion.

Worst Director: Oliver Stone, Oliver Stone, Oliver Fucking Stone. God. Can you imagine what it will be like if this guy actually gets to direct an adaptation of The Fountainhead? There may be actual suicides in the theaters.

Worst Remake or Sequel: Exorcist: The Beginning, if only because of the fact that, somewhere out there, there supposedly exists a better cut, and we were forced to see the shitty one.

Worst Screenplay: If you will, a selection from Catwoman:

Evil Makeup Slut (Sharon Stone): Game over, Patience.
Catwoman (Halle Berry): It's overtime!

See, some of the dialogue in Alexander, while pompous and overblown, had a nice, poetic, classical quality to it. Catwoman's dialogue, on the other hand, sounds like it would only be spoken by people kept in a Skinner box in their youth and raised on a steady diet of Top Gun knockoffs and sassy black girlfriend dialogue. Catwoman wins, if only because no real people in no time period whatsoever spoke like that.

And now, the special awards:

Worst Razzie Loser: This is difficult. If anything, I'd say it's even odds between Angelina, who got a freaking Oscar to go with her 7 nominations, and Arnold, who somehow ended up becoming Governor of the fine state where the Razzies are held. But if I had to pick one, I'd have to go with Conan.

Worst "Drama": There's just so fucking much. The Lonely Lady and Swept Away will probably fall by the wayside, if only because you have two of the gayest movies in all the world and the world's most overblown treatise on Scientology. I'd actually have to go with Battlefield Earth myself, if only because camp value can be derived from the other two remaining contenders. Not to mention I know people who use the following phrase as a barometer for bad movies: "Does it have cavemen piloting thousand-year old fighter jets after a week of training? No? Then it's not bad enough."

Worst "Comedy": Gigli. Gigli. The movie pretty much killed at least two acting careers, got buzz that smelled like a decomposing skunk, had a love interest who was a lesbian and still ended up screwing the leading man, and had an autistic character who said that attractive ladies made his penis sneeze. While I'd personally pick Freddy Got Fingered (say what you will about Gigli, but at least it didn't cause me actual physical pain while I was reading a review of it), the movie that even Harry Knowles found atrocious is walking home with this one.

Worst "Musical": As no one remembers Rhinestone, From Justin to Kelly, or Spice World rather distinctly, they're out of the running. Can't Stop the Music? Can't Stop the Music is so gay, it marks the film debut of The Village People. That alone garners it the camp exemption seen in "Dramas". If I had to choose between the remaining two, I'd go with Glitter, for these reasons: the Mariah Carey Cavalcade of Crazy that prefaced its release; it was boring and, ultimately, forgotten by all but Dennis Hensely (seriously, read Screening Party now) in the wake of 9/11; and it displayed the unknown psychic powers of Mariah Carey. Seriously; she's singing the same song as her boyfriend, and instantly knows where her mother is even though she's only told she's in Maryland. Professor Xavier better watch his ass.

And, that's it. My wishes for next year? Highest "honors" for Uwe Boll. Make it so, Razzie board.

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