Everybody who are still at least somebody in Hollywood will get together this Sunday night at the Dolby Theatre to pat themselves on the back and hand each other golden trophies.
There was a day I used to be quite excited about the Oscars, but that was when I felt the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences truly celebrated innovation in the film industry, instead of spotlighting movies that are nothing more than somewhat narcissistic approaches to what Hollywood has become.
If I sound jaded, all I have to do is point to some recent best picture winners like Birdman and this Sunday’s likely winner La La Land. And I’m a big fan of Michael Keaton and musicals – just not in projects that feel more like masturbation than actual films.
My negativity is ramped up even more this year because the Oscars reminded the world that it has a very, very short memory. And I’m not just talking about the lack of true diversity in the nominations (which remains a major problem).
No, I’m talking about just one man: Mel Gibson. After more than a decade of him doing whatever it is that he does when no one is looking, the Oscars have gone from ignoring Gibson to giving him his first Oscar nomination since winning two of them in 1996 for Braveheart.
Don’t get me wrong, Hacksaw Ridge could indeed be a great film. I don’t know. I haven’t watched it, nor do I intend to. The last thing I want to do as a devout fan of movies is give this man any attention.
To simply deploy cliches like “let bygones be bygones,” because I am not convinced at all that the Mel Gibson of today is any different from the Mel Gibson who was stopped by Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department deputy James Mee on the night of July 28, 2006.