January 26, 2004

Golden Globes

Random thoughts during and after the Golden Globes:

I loved Meryl Streep's joyfully defiant hair toss.

I greatly enjoyed Carey Lowell's snide little toast after she was caught on camera gossiping to Richard Gere.

Alarming was Cynthia Nixon's fake and strange ponytail that neither matched her hair nor resembled actual hair.

Where was Mary Louise Parker's womb? Isn't she pregnant?

Oh! She already had the baby. And what a great speech about Janel Maloney and her boobs. And she named him William Atticus Parker, which means that her split with Billy Crudup must not have been all that acrimonious, seeing as she gave her baby his first name and all. (Who was her date? I know I recognized him, but I couldn't place him.)

Bill Murray, while very funny, didn't thank Scarlett Johansson. What?

Neither did Sofia! WHAT?!?

"Do you think they HATE her?" I demanded after calling my sister. "There's no other conclusion!" she sputtered indignantly and hung up.

Poor Scarlett.

Sharon Stone did not look well.

Cate Blanchett looked more like a goddess than usual, and that is saying a lot.

I was very glad to see Jeffrey Wright win and very disappointed to see Amber Tamblyn lose.

What the fuck was up with playing "What I Did for Love" over the Michael Douglas montage? Suddenly it seemed like a parody.

Dominic Monaghan was totally in tears when Peter Jackson won.

Brittany Murphy did not look like a crack addict.

Nicole's dress. Nicole's hair. Oh, Nicole.

Jude Law is the most gorgeous man on the planet.

What is wrong with Al Pacino? Seriously. Is he ill? Or just a tad deranged?

After Sofia Coppola's speech for best film, the phone rang. "I cannot believe! That she! Wrote this movie! She has the personality of about a brick!"

"Ha!"

"What a disgrace! She couldn't have prepared SOMETHING?"

I love it when my sister gets disgruntled over entertainment matters. It's so rare!

As for Return of the King, it kind of seems like there is somewhat of a begrudging spirit behind the awards it received. Like no one really thinks anymore that the films are all that deserving, especially when faced by such good competition. Like, no one will argue that Charlize deserves it, that's just written in stone at this point and they might as well not even nominate anyone else. (Even though I think Samantha Morton definitely deserves to be on that list and will be very sad if she is not.) But there's a lot of Clint Eastwood love in the air, it seems, and I think a lot of people will be very bitter if Return of the King and Peter Jackson take the Oscar over Mystic River and Eastwood. But that's just my feeling. I could be wrong.

I think Sean Penn has the edge over Bill Murray, but I also think people like to vote for people who will actually show up and give a speech, and I don't think Sean Penn can be counted on for that. I think the only reason he showed up at the Critics Choice Awards was to present the tribute to Eastwood, and the only reason he got up to accept his acting award was because he was already there. As for the supporting categories, I will vomit if Renee Zellweger wins the Oscar, because I don't think she did anything all that spectacular as Ruby and that it would be more for her collective roles than for this one (much like Nicole Kidman's win last year). I've never disliked any of her performances and she is consistently great, but come on! I think there must have been better performances in that category.

Mostly, I'm just glad Tom Cruise didn't win. His recent stint on Inside the Actors Studio was appalling. His answers were smug, calculated, self-centered, arrogant, completely actory, and the opposite of genuine on all levels. It made me hate him! I don't think I will ever be able to see another one of his movies! I have liked several of them in the past. I mean, Top Gun is just a part of everyone (even you, don't deny it!) and Jerry Maguire is just charming (in large thanks to the supporting cast and Cameron Crowe), but my God, after the sheer horror of Vanilla Sky and this fakery with Lipton? Bad taste. BAD TASTE IN MY MOUTH. Cannot abide him.

As for television, I would have liked to see Amber Tamblyn or Jennifer Garner win, and I was shocked that 24 took best drama. Big fat whatever to that. I was happy for Anthony LaPaglia if only because he is forever to me Joe. I mean, Joe. "Let me explain it to you. Mitchell's the man. I'm the idiot. You're the screw-up. And we're all losers. Welcome to Music Town." I realize that Sarah Jessica Parker always wins, which kind of annoys me, but I'll be damned if I don't always get a little misty-eyed during her speeches! She wins me over every time.

Meanwhile, watch for Elizabeth's Oscar pool, and don't forget that nominations are announced tomorrow morning.

:::

About this time in ...

2003:

I feel like dying of ecstasy just thinking about seeing those green mountains and going white water rafting and hearing S. talk about the father of modern landscape architecture while we stroll through the Biltmore gardens and hunting out waterfalls to look at and shopping in the quaint stores and eating in the divine restaurants and driving down the Blue Ridge Parkway, and hello, Chimney Rock Park, where they filmed that waterfall scene in The Last of the Mohicans!

2002:

We shouldn't spend our time comparing ourselves to others who we will never, ever be, because we are ourselves, and we are fucking fabulous.

2001:

We spotted a group of dolphins and I found myself telling my friends about how as a little child, I read of Vicky Austin and her Ring of Endless Light and Adam and Norberta and Njord and Basil and believed that if I ever saw dolphins, when I called them, they would come.

2000:

This guy, S., and I have physics and calculus together.


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