Glenn Close introduced Sunday night's Academy Awards "In Memoriam" segment by expressing gratitude toward those who have died: "Because of the great gift of film, they will be here forever. We love you, we honor you, we miss you, but most of all, we thank you." She also suggested, in a halfhearted attempt to mitigate backlash, that there just wasn't enough room to recognize all the dearly departed.
There is absolutely nothing cute about The Wolf of Wall Street or any other 2014 Oscar Best Picture nominees. Until now, that is.
Walking into the event, the men at the escalators were quick to ask, "Do you want to do the red carpet? Because if you want to do the red carpet, you must go downstairs." Down an escalator and through the hall, the red carpet—a thing one might do—sat in between two sliding glass doors. It looked like red Astroturf and was flanked by cheap lattice covered in faux moss. The rug seemed ashamed. The reporters lining the carpet were largely of the "local news" variety. No one cares about the Writers Guild Awards.
Woody Allen's lawyers and friends are quick to argue that the latest round of child abuse accusations against the actor are perfectly timed to destroy what should have been a fruitful awards season. But the real truth is that these allegations, these stories, and Allen's history with young women have been a matter of public record for at least 20 years.
Saturday morning I awoke poolside at my favorite place to stay in Los Angeles—a cheap, hidden, gay, clothing-optional gem—feeling inspired by the previous night's revelry. On Friday I'd spent the evening at a pre-Grammy concert featuring performances by Gavin DeGraw and Dan Wilson, the man behind Adele's mega-hit "Someone Like You." I'd shed a tear when Bonnie Raitt played "I Can't Make You Love Me," and I woke up feeling like I wanted to start a band. Instead, I did the exact opposite: I had lunch with a room full of lawyers.
If the Critics Choice Awards are accurate predictions for the Oscars, it looks like it will continue to be a great year for 12 Years a Slave, American Hustle, and Gravity. On late Thursday afternoon, the Broadcast Film Critics Association presented the prestigious awards to predictable winners in an airplane hangar in Santa Monica; adding to the glamour was the fact that the event was sponsored by Pinkberry. If there's anything sadder than staying at home to watch an awards show on the CW, it's watching an awards show that stars Tom Hanks eating froyo.
Actor Chris Hemsworth and Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences President Cheryl Boone Isaacs woke up early Thursday morning to announce this year's Oscar nominations. But if you didn't set your alarm for 5:38 a.m. and 30 seconds PST to watch the incredibly boring live telecast, here's all you need to know: Tom Hanks and Oprah, both widely expected to receive acting nominations, were snubbed.
The 34th annual Razzie nominations were announced Wednesday morning, highlighting the terrible films we've watched on planes, in theaters with our parents, and alone, all alone, on Saturday nights. As expected, Grown Ups 2 and The Lone Ranger dominate the competitive field, but it's really hard to celebrate the worst of 2013 when the so-called "best" movies weren't even particularly exciting.
This year the Oscars will "honor big-screen real-life heroes, super heroes, popular heroes and animated heroes, both past and present, as well as the bold filmmakers who bring them to life," show producers Craig Zadan and Neil Meron said in a news release. More proof that Hollywood loves a stupid theme party.