Cintra Wilson's report on the Oscars is super-catty as always but worth a read (Salon subscriber-only text liberated here). Janet Jackson ruined tits for everyone, so the vast majority of dresses were strictly Mormon prom. Even Elvis Costello wore a plain black jacket, for The Christ’s sake. Nobody even had interesting new plastic surgery, apart from Joan Rivers, whose face looks like it was gnawed out of marzipan by the savages of Easter Island, and Angelina’s Billy Bob-shaped laser scar.
Damn. Don't ever make this woman mad at you. Her takedown of Seabiscuit (among other nominees) is more abstractly brutal, but still great: "Seabiscuit" was a stink-pony – superclean schlock from nose to bumper. Spare me the sight of quaint, depression-era crowd scenes that look like they’ve been swaddled in tweeds by J. Crew, surging in rapture to majestic life-insurance violin orchestrations. That shit was strictly for Burl Ives, Pepperidge Farm and creamy ranch dressing.
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Cintra Wilson's report on the Oscars is super-catty as always but worth a read (Salon subscriber-only text liberated here). Damn. Don't ever make this woman mad at you. Her takedown of Seabiscuit (among other nominees) is more abstractly brutal, but still great: - tom moody 3-01-2004 8:52 pm