The 2010 Oscars...some quick impressions.

by Idaho Chubbs

Hear ye! Hear ye! Scowling Stoned Clooney serves as Handsome Nemesis for Snuggy clad Third Amigo and Jack Donaghy. I swear Jane Seymour had her hand on Jay Bateman's inner thigh the whole ceremony ("He just gets cuter and cuter"). NPH is my new AKON...Not really, and The dance crews win for best interpretation of the orgasmic artistry that is the fluffy "take-flight" morning dew of the gods...Nectar. Their limbs were limberer than any Navi warrior could ever dream , in REAL LIFE! I swear I thought I was watching hundreds of M. Bisons (Street-Fighter video game) get their dance-on all at the same time. Was Zach Efron wearing a faux-hawked raccoon on his head? And Why does Kristen Stewart insist on not looking good. Efron was probably hotter than her even with the sloor-nest hair. Seeing old wise sage Tolstoy playing Chris Plummer made me want to see young virile hot “Sound of Music” Von Trap Plummer (I wonder if I’ll ever read Anna Karnininininnnna?). And Is Sir Dame Mistress Helen Mirren the sexiest creature on earth? Apparently Michael “I can’t believe Beckinsale left me—we have a kid together—for the director of Underworld” Sheen and the rest of the acting world think so. I will be the judge of that when I have a private viewing of CALIGULA later tonight. But one thing I do know is that Johnny Utah's facial hair was naturally gifted with creativity and the real HOT! HOT! HOT! older woman of the Oscar hour was Kathryn Bigelow. She's like totally 60...WHAAAAAA!!!??? I loved seeing our favorite LOST Freighter time-traveling brain-bleeder George Minkowski win for his hard hitting doc on dolphin “blood-letting”. Were tuna involved? I hope not. How cocky is Tony Stark now with his dark aqua tie and Fellini reading sunglasses? T2000 is pouring a box of heroin in his “old fashioned” to bring him back down to earth. I wonder if Jeremy Renner was like, "We're talking about me in S.W.A.T? WTF? Can Colin and I just forget we ever did that piece of celluloid sloor?" Geese…I’m super glad Zoe Saldana starved herself for three months before last night, looking extra anorexic in her attempt to win The Best T2000/Jada Pinkett-Smith Look-A-Like Award (pssst, but she was still hot). Speaking of which, did “Star Trek” win best make-up for giving Syler from “Heroes” a bowl hair-cut, some fake Spock ears, and for drawing some angular lines on pre-reboot Bruce Banner’s (Eric Bana) face and then call it a day? Standards are slipping I guess. Complaint - Where was Russell (bleep, bloop, bleep) from UP and why does the world let Randy Newman still work in film or any industry for that matter? Inglorious Basterds should have won everything but at least The Dude got to TOTALLY abide. White Russian Chip Nectar liquid grass was flowing last night indeed.

Idaho's Top 50 Films of the Decade...in this dimension (2000-2009), Part 1 of 20

by Idaho Chubbs

What makes a great film? Many things, people, space and time come together for months maybe a year, maybe for more, maybe a decade (look how long it took to green-light WATCHMEN...about 20 years?). But the main process is when that ball first gets rolling, the main shoot, when everything the audience is going to see is made into a reality of sorts. When on a daily basis, a small or large group of people are living in a fictitious story in the realm of our "now". How exciting! How Bizarre! What's funny about art is that success is exemplified by how much strangers who don't know the creator or creators like their creation. Friends and family cannot be objective no matter what, and unless the artist finds some sort of patron, they can never fully realize their artistic dreams without the help of that general audience. It is difficult to put into words just how wonderful one single film can be at times; there are just so many different nooks, crannies and valleys of "wonderful", awe-inspiring summits, and questioning of what is truly the possible when making a monumentous work of cinema. Or at times the whole production can possess a multitude of  ("I loved that one scene or montage, but hated that character, but so-and-so was superb as the evil what's-his-face--I'm not sure what happened at the end, maybe I need to see it again, or not, I do, I do want to see it again--no I don't--I don't care--Loved the concept but the execution was not that great, but man, amazing cinematography, I think that tracking shot lasted 20 thousand minutes," is what I find myself saying sometimes, when the visualization of film and it's art direction are the only pleasing aspects of it, making the rest not so good, and overall, not a good movie.) The main criteria I instinctually look for in any great film are originality, spot on acting, genre ambiguity, emotional resonance, brain-enlightening visuals, balanced tonality, and sharp narrative. Now all of these things do not have to exist in one film to make it exceptional. They rarely do and when a few of them are focussed on with careful precision, an amazing film is usually the result. But on the rare occasion that all exist in perfect balance, in one movie, well, that is the highest of cinematic achievements.

In the last ten years I have witnessed a few of these delighful/heart-warming/pschologically soul-crushing/hilarious/zaney/mind-altering/uplifting/confusing/damning/adrenaline-pumping/visually stunning/obnoxious/self-depricating/challenging/violent/quirky/cute/blood-stained works. And it was good. I really awoke to the art of the moving picture. Most of the films I have seen in my insanely long life have been solely in the last ten moons, many of which were not from that period (early 60's foreign films seem to really light my nectar a flame). But I digress....other 2000-2009 decades in other dimensions have not been so great, hence me not addressing them. Let's just say that instead of Christopher Nolan having three films in the AV Club's Top 50, our favorite Transformers' director does. Huh, that just made me think of Orson Welles' Jesus-like performance as Unicron to Megatron's Lazarus, except you know, evil; in the brilliantly zaney animated Transformers movie from the 80's. I really do have to find that dimension where Welles' Batman movie has been birthed; I know it will rule my existence for reasons unknown to me or any other human. Ahh but until then I will have to settle with the ones from this decade as well as several other films that appear below. Enjoy....

P.S. They are being released five at time (I will probably finish in 2019) because my job as the Athletic Director at The University of Hawaii in 1905 takes up most of my brain-candy. I'm really hoping Pete Carroll likes it there. He actually thought he was going to 2009 Seattle for a pro job.

50. Team America: World Police

Matt and Trey once again display their genius through the eyes of hilarious characters in the form of marionette puppets who are trying to save the world by blowing the shit out of it. I've never seen anyone attempt to make a feature film with plastic figures on strings but somehow they do it with "fuck you" panache. They take aim at actors, North Korea, America, montages, Michael Bay and MAAATTT DAAEEEMON!!! just to name a few and succeed with outrageous success. Much like South Park they have no fear in attacking both sides of every subject with witty songs ("Pearl Harbor Sucked...and I Miss You"), over the top violence (actors will have peace damnit! and they will kill anyone with semi-automatic weapons who stand in their way of that peace), a touching and heart-warming ballad by Kim Jong-Il; even the musical RENT gets the royal treatment...AIDS! AIDS! AIDS!...fuck yeah?...hehehe. 

49. Almost Famous

No one does sentimental corny sap better than Cameron Crowe. Even a cynical soul like myself could not help but sing along with the rest of the characters as they belted out Sir Elton's wonderful ode to little dancing people. When I was a teenager I imagined the late 60's and 70's to be a magical time for music, life, hair-beards and substance abuse majesty. I yearned to be barely adult in that era, taking part in everything, except Vietnam of course...no good. What's fascinating is that I believe my generation felt the same way resulting in a faux-classic rock scene in the early nineties called "grunge" which then was usurped by jam band oblivion. We wanted that world and desperately attempted to create it, with mild, yet cheesy success. The reason this film is so loved by the late 20 to early 30 set is because William Miller (the wide-eyed and young Cameron Crowe vessel protagonist) is US, was US! Except he got to live there and experience the Jonie Mitchell/Led Zeppelin day dream for real, so-to-speak. But make no mistake, this story is not fluff. This time period in history truly exemplifies how almost grass-roots everything was, how much easier access was to famous people and ones on the verge of that fame, to insert yourself in that world and thrive in it. I mean a 15 year-old hanging out with one of the great music critics of day and eventually getting a gig (eventually a cover story) from Rolling Stone Magazine right over the phone. Over the next 20 years celebrity became increasingly clogged with bullshit and an extreme separation between artists and their audience was the result. When all is said and done I feel as though my generation ached for that simplicity ourselves, and just went a bit overboard...with our version of it (Thanks Woodstock 94'!!!! hahaha).

Crowe's script also brings up many aspects of what it feels like to belong, and if that is genuine. Even if you're an ax-wheelding rock god, or a post adolescent, SoCal journalist genius, or the daughter of a famous actress playing an obnoxious, teenage, manic pixie dream whore who prefers self-suicide puking in swanky New York City hotels rather than "Trainspotting" toilets that are addicted to the angel heroin vocal cords of "Sir" (in my book) Ewen Mcgregor. Everyone wants to belong, wear handle-bar mustaches, listen to good music, make money off it, but just enough, not too much, not too much fame because it's about the music man, "and the chicks are great" cackles Jason Lee's (Brody!) "man" beard. Art, music, friendship, money, sex--What is real in all the insanely different levels of life that you measure success by, and how do you balance that as you move forward through it? The wise and chubb-like sage of the story Lester Bangs (played by that Stradlater prep school sloor from "Scent of A Woman") at one point says to our innocent protagonist, "My advice to you. I know you think those guys are your friends. You wanna be a true friend to them? Be honest, and unmerciful." While I agree, I will say that honesty with a smidge of mercy is a bit nicer and still honest. And in the end William Miller learns this and is a better, well adjusted teenager, who will, in our non-fiction dimension future, use that prowess to write a story about all of this, landing him his own little golden god. 

48. I Heart Huckabees

"Motherfucking cocksucker motherfucking shit fucker what am I doing? What am I doing? I don't know what I'm doing. I'm doing the best that I can. I know that's all I can ask of myself. Is that good enough? Is my work doing any good? Is anybody paying attention? Is it hopeless to try and change things? The African guy is a sign, right? Because if he isn't, than nothing in this world makes any sense to me. I'm fucked! Maybe I should quit. Don't quit! Maybe I should just fucking quit. Don't fucking quit! I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to fucking do anymore! Fucker! Fuck shit!" The first time I heard that, was when T2000 performed the monologue for his 1915 solo musical/installation performance in Berlin entitled "Tommy Corn Loves Jesus and Petroleum" when WWI was in full swing (trench warfare was so fun, I miss it). "T" later divulged that he stole it from a 2004 film entitled "I Heart Huckabees". Enthused, I viewed it and fell in love, especially with Mark Wahlberg's existentially confused fire-fighter Tommy Corn. Never has he been more sincere and funny as he is in this performance. With a tremendous script and stellar cast which includes Jude Law, Naomi Watts, Jason Schwartzman, and Dustin Hoffman among others, this was a comedy that truly explored the conundrum of our existence in such a unique and hilarious way it cannot be denied as an aught classic.

47. I'm Not There

So we got Batman, The Joker, Kathryn Hepburn, Lancelot, a kid, and host of others playing the many facets of Bob Dylan's subconscious and conscious self in a abstract fictional narrative. Oh and Charlotte Gainsbourg (I want to marry her hair), who almost unintentionally anchors this film as a spurned lover to Ledger's fame-hungry "Dylan". The movie is an extreme jumble of personalities and films styles, almost seeming like Fellini, Lynch and Schnabel got high on weed and nectar and all started painting a canvas as big as the world together while we watched. That would probably be quite a mess, but probably one of the most original and poignant messes you'll ever see. What Todd Haynes achieved with this was not necessarily a movie but a free-flowing photographic piece of biopic art of which we have never seen before.

46. Minority Report

The first time I saw Colin Farrell act was in the gritty Vietnam boot-camp indie "Tiger-Land". The performance was impressive, but soon after it was topped by his dashing and self assured turn as Danny Witwer, a seemingly obnoxious federal agent hot on the trail of Tom Cruise' framed protagonist. Unlike most people, I give our favorite Scientologist a good amount of praise for several of the roles he has inhabited. I know, he does run a lot in this, but his form is always impeccable. With "Minority Report" we sprint into the tale of the government over stepping it's boundary to prevent murders before they happen. We have people who can see the future now (That's crazy!). They are bald, live in pools of milky "see the future aiding" nectar and they are never wrong. The "killers" are arrested before they ever commit the crime. Much like Truffaut's "Fahrenheit 451" before it and von Donnersmarck's "The Lives of Others" after; we see a protagonist who is a full-hearty disciple and a top employee of this system, until in turns on him. But unlike the aforementioned two films, this story discusses the morality of a system that might actually help society instead of making it a place that is so controlled, the government bugs your living quarters, blackmails your girlfriend into sexual favors or burns your favorite Philip K. Dick novel. But like I tried to explain to Alexander The Great (not a bleach blonde Colin Farrell as him) during my days as his fashion consultant/political adviser in late 320's BC Persia; there is no perfect way to govern, and sometimes morally gray areas rear their ugly head when attempting to regulate one's state, country, or then-known-world-empire. Yes, stopping murder before it happens is great, but can you jail someone in an incubator for the rest of their earthly life without trial for something they actually never did only because you stopped them from doing it? Weird and wonderful questions indeed. With a fast "on-the-run" pace the narrative is tightly wound into a cat and mouse adventure (which includes Maverick being built into the coolest looking go-go machine Lexus ever, which he then proceeds to drive away while simultaneously sticking his tongue out at Witmer) that shows us a future that might not be far off. This is wonderfully realized by Spielberg and Janusz Kaminski who give us a starkly lit environment of grays and blues that starts off as a safe, beautiful and muted world that morphs into a beautifully gritty, messy and violent one, showing us that no matter what, power is always there to corrupt and deceive, ultimately leaving us less and less safe the more of it we give away from ourselves. Of course Alexander thought I was full of shit. Ahh too bad he died so young.