Sunday, February 25, 2007

Oscar Sunday!

Some things for today, Sunday February 25th.

In the words of Make the Logo Bigger "Die SNL, die." I love Rainn Wilson on The Office, but I'm pissed that I forced myself to stay awake to watch that recycled piece of crap last night.

But what do you mean Magno? Why so glum? Here's why so glum. I bet if you called my sister she could still sing "Chevy" from the first season. Gilda Radner, Larraine Newman and Jane Curtain sang this fabulous little ditty: "Chevy, Chevy I love when you fall down, each Saturday night on my TV, oh yes but Chevy, every time you take that fall, I wish that you were falling, for me."

Yeah - I remember it - my sister and I sang it together. The SNL girls crooned that tune in 1977 and the quality was seared into my childhood receptors. Not a tag line - not ad copy - the whole song. I could still recite dueling Brandos if there was money on the line.

It seems to me that the majority of the sketches (back then) were true to narrative form with a beginning a middle and an end. They weren't "played off" by the band because they couldn't come up with a damn ending. "Concept" humor is fine (occasionally) but you can't pull off a 90 minute with nothing but concept humor. I love Amy Poehler - I think she's a "hot ticket" in the parlance of my parents, but you may not use Weekend Update to toss out the one-liners that were used to pitch sketches that didn't make it into the show. STOP THAT. Make up some fake news, get Jon Stewart or dump the sketch. That's all I have on SNL.

I'll be livebitching liveblogging the Oscars tonight. There will definitely be a wardrobe watch, but I love the Oscars telecast - it's riddled with opportunity for shame and stupidity.

In other award news, the Razzies were handed out yesterday to those deserving souls who spend millions and millions of dollars on poorly written, poorly executed crap by studios that passed on gems like Little Miss Sunshine. Handed out with malice I hope. Also the Independent Spirit Awards (after the Golden Globes my favorite awards) were presented yesterday - you can read all about it at the ISA website. No spoilers from me.

Commercial that is annoying me right now: The Meineke mid-winter sale where idiot son asks his dimwitted parents "Who should I Marry, Chole, Liz or Jill." It must be very hard on parents when their children are having bizarre visions that only they can see. Where is George Foreman when you need him?

1 comment:

Make the logo bigger said...

I think I've given up on the Oscars. It's like New year's Eve, and ok, just wake me at 11:58 to watch the important part.

The fact that Scorsese is even up against Eastwood is wrong on a few levels. Somewhere the film gods are screwing with Marty. I mean, I loved The Departed with its great ensemble, but if Marty didn't win for Raging Bull, no way he deserves it for Departed.

Few of the scenes felt like he was trying to be Marty Tarantino while others rehashed typical Scorsese moments. (Old tunes played over, main character musing over past actions, etc.) You know, Marty Moments®.

Director like Eastwood deserved to be nominated but wasn't for Bridges of Madison County – (Gibson for Braveheart and Babe that year were nominated, go figure.) Still, helming an epic like Letters or Flags seems more like being a traffic manager in an agency than it does directing Sean Penn in an intense personal moment, you know?

And United 93 was notable for one thing: a cast of relative unknowns re-enacting the events of the day in such an understated way as to appear like a doc, but best direction? Pul-leeeeze. Give it to Stone's rescue flick WTC first.

Having said what I did about Marty, if he loses to United 93, then they should just lube the Oscar statue and tell him to bend over.

Ok, I'm sufficiently all over the map now. Enjoy the show.