#721 Ennui Oscar

Many people complained recently about the Oscars. More importantly, they voted with their remote controls by not watching in the first place.
Speculation abounded about why this was so. Was it the host? No, it was pretty much acknowledged that Jon Stewart helped what little market share they had.
Was it the writers’ strike? This was a favorite with many. The theory proposes that there was a groundswell of viewer skepticism and apprehension over the possible quality of the writing, predicated on the notion that weary, just-off-the-picket-line writers only had two weeks to prepare for the show.
I don’t buy it. This requires a level of sophisticated judgment most TV viewers just don’t employ. Hey Honey, let’s not watch the Oscars, the writers are probably so bushed, the jokes will be lame.
A small minority thinks it was because it’s a leap year. And all things that are weird in a leap year are attributable to the fact that it’s a leap year.
My theory is twofold. First, the Academy picked movies that no one even saw. And second, they picked movies that were almost universally depressing. I know they were art and I agree art should be challenging and stuff, but these are depressing times. The economy sucks, the war is dragging on, and congress is solving everything by pursuing Roger Clemons.
So movies need to be entertaining. They need to help us escape. They need to inspire and have fantasy and grandeur. Give us a Lord of the Rings. Give us a Sound of Music. Give us, gosh darnit, a Gigi.
Better yet, let’s grab Oscar watchers by the heartland—give us a Nascar Movie. That’ll bring out the viewers.
Nascar and Oscar. Have Ricky Bobby Will Farrell host. Dress all the presenters in clothes festooned with the logos and names of sponsors.
Then notch up the drama and anticipation. Make the finalists in every category footrace around an oval track on the big Oscar stage to determine the winner. I bet you’d see some fancy footwork from the contenders for “Best Sound Editing in a Short Documentary.”
Oscar and Nascar. It’s a natural.
America, ya gotta love it.