In celebration of the Oscars, my personal favorite annual travesty of cinema, I thought I would forego the usual DVD review for my recollections on the worst of all Oscar winners. True, it’s mostly because there are few, if any, first-run movies coming to DVD this week, but let’s not let that spoil the fun. On to our Oscar-winning losers.




Oscar’s Worst

Braveheart
Britain’s Empire Magazine picked this as the worst of the Oscar-winners, and I have to agree, though the choice was difficult. Mel Gibson, fresh from making the film Transvestite Roadie, plays William Wallace, in a script as phony as any peace treaty ever signed by the U.S. and Native Americans. Apparently, rather than waging a justice civil war against an aggressive empire for the right to home rule, Wallace decided to kick England’s ass because someone messed with his girlfriend. Way to go, screenwriter Randall Wallace. There’s much more moral authority when you’re avenging the death of one woman instead of thousands of abused Scots. Still, without this movie, my friends and I wouldn’t get such a kick out of yelling “Freedom!” in crappy Scottish accent. We went around doing that for a few years.

Forrest Gump
True, shit happens, but must we film it? Tom Hanks goes from playing Bosom Buddy to just plain boob in this Rain Man, sans the real emotional content. Here’s the story: Forrest Gump is born retarded, grows up with funny leg braces, miraculously runs on his broken legs, goes to Vietnam and saves everybody, thereby winning the war, comes back to join the protestors, thereby eating his cake, too, receives commendations from every president for being a moron, becomes a millionaire through the huge shrimping market, has a child with a slut, and takes care of when he dies, because all retarded people have good hearts as all know. If you find this account of the movie insulting to your intelligence, you should at least respect I used much less time to insult your intelligence than the movie itself did.

Shakespeare in Love
The best accurate review I could find of this modern-day untamed shrew was “punchy.” Jack Nicholson, too, is punchy, it doesn’t mean he deserves a Best Picture Oscar. This was before the entire world collectively turned against Ben Affleck, so watching it now, it should be quite a puzzler how audiences got out of the theater without wretching themselves into comas. Also, did Shakespeare really have the Caesar cut? It doesn’t matter. I’ll give you the historical inaccuracies. But casting so many shiveringly-bad British accents in one movie makes me want to stab the real Shakespeare with a poisoned foil, were he not already dead. A turd by any other name still stinketh up the theater.


Would that I had more time, I could point out how horribly unendurable Chicago was—one column for that alone. But not today, my friend. I take leave now, hoping Hollywood will actually do one or two more films and release them to DVD, so I don’t have to drudge up the ugly past in future columns.


Osctoberfest 2005
Grab your nuts and yank, America, it’s Oscars time! What some have called “the most wonderful time of the year” in a mistaken interpretation of Christmas songs is finally upon us.

February 14, 2005
The Motorcycle Diaries, Saw, I Heart Huckabees

February 7, 2005
The Boogeyman, Itch, Pooh’s Hemp Movie, The Wedding Date

January 31, 2005
The Grudge, Shall We Dance?, Shark Tale, The Notebook