The Gospel According to John

Ladies and Gents, Your First 2010 Oscars Dark Horse

To put it in the most syrupy way possible, my heart is so full of this movie I hardly know where to begin. I saw Precious at the New York Film Festival last weekend—during which I sat behind Michael Moore and spitting distance from Mariah Carey and Miss Sherri Shepherd from our most favorite travesty, TV’s The View, thank you very much—and I haven’t taken in a movie so moving (zing!) in a long, long time. I walked out feeling like I needed to grab everyone who passed me and ask them, “Have you seen Precious?”, just so I could have someone to talk about it with. If for no other reason than the revelatory performance of newcomer Gabourey Sidibe, I implore you: GO. SEE. PRECIOUS.  

Penis-Tucking Madmen in G-Major

What do you get when you combine the penis-tucking ladysuit-making madman Buffalo Bill from The Silence of the Lambs with music and Legos?

Aside from the most terrifying/amazing/terrifying/amazing/terrifying.../amazing...I think...or maybe one more /terrifying...thing to ever happen ever in the history of everything ever, you also get this:

The Individual Formerly Known as Rupert Everett: A Very Important Update!

The plot thickens.

As you may remember, last week we discussed The Individual Formerly Known as Rupert Everett, or TIFKARE (totally unwieldy moniker, that, but we'll get to it in a minute), and his recent decision to remove the face of Chuck Woolery and have it implanted atop his own skull. 

Exhibit A:

As you likely remember, we discussed a few theories as to what, exactly, has happened to Rupie: he's on the lam; he has actually been replaced by a melty-faced space alien who visage can take on any form it likes; or, in a gambit to enhance his career, he has surgically transformed himself into soap opera character John Black-DiMera.

Much has been made of Rupert's new face, but answers have been elusive, particularly in light of the commendable researched performed by the Fug Girls. 

Dear Rupert Everett

What in the ever-loving hell have you done.

As evidenced on the left, you used to be the sexiest queen in Christendom. Now, you look like a youth pastor. Or a newscaster. Or Chuck Woolery. 

INCORRECT.

Source

Who Needs E When There's the TV Guide Channel?

So, as previously mentioned (long-windedly), this Sunday is the Oscars! Wee! And we all know that the best part of the Oscars is not celebrating filmic excellence, but making fun of people on the red carpet!

Am I right?

And, as any American with his priorities in order knows, E! is the place to go for red carpet coverage. But not anymore. Trust me on this. Forgo the E! and click on down to the TV Guide Network.

After all, why would you watch cock-obsessed muppet Ryan Seacrest and Skeletor McMarried-to-that-dude-from-The-Apprentice on E!, when TV Guide Network’s coverage is hosted by a laboratory-made hybrid?

Second Annual Should Win/Will Win!

Well, kidlets. The world is burning down around us, but so what! Because Sunday is the Gay Super Bowl! (That’s the Oscars. ‘citing, isn’t it? I know! Uh!)

Which means it’s time for our second annual Should Win/Will Win! Yayyyyy!

It's a tough competition this year, folks. The Should Win part, in particular. But even the Will Win is a bit tricky. Granted, some of it can be summed up thusly: 

• Delightful English Girl Whom of Late the English Have Suddenly, for Some Reason, Turned On 
• Former Spouse of Madonna Pulling a Hilary Swank
• Injuns (tikka masala, not teepees)

But the rest is all a bit murky, no? 

Ah! But! This year, I’ll be utilizing the stats skills of Mr. Nate Silver! Hurrah! He’s the one who basically fortune-told the whole presidential election using math. Or maths, if you’re British.

So he’s like even more omnipotent than Our Lady of Intergalactic Resplendence!

Anyway, he’s figured the whole ceremony out, and if you’re smart, you’ll set your Oscar pool clocks by his watch and then win lots of dough at work, instead of that douchebag suburban commuter lady who always leaves those passive-aggressive notes in the lunch room and wins the Oscar pool every year because she has no idea what’s going on and saw none of the movies and just guesses on every category and gets lucky! Yay!

So jump the jump and we’ll try to get this sorted.

Dear Joaquin Phoenix: Why?

Okay, hi: WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH JOEQUINN PHOENIX.

Seriously. First there was the whole “I’m quitting acting” thing, which is just stupid and narcissistic because:

A—It attempts to make a statement about how NOT narcissistic he is—“Look at me, I’m so beyond Hollywood, it’s so empty, you know? And I’m so much more than that,” which is, well, narcissistic. And stupid.

B—It assumes we care (which we do, but that’s beside the point), which is very narcissistic and also just stupid.

So we’re already starting off kind of, you know…ugh. But then on top of it, there’s his “rap” career, as evidenced here, which is a giant tub of “yikes” and makes you do that sort of wince thing that you do when someone is making a GIANT fool of his/herself, such as the other day when some dumbshit NYU tart crossed the street in front of me wearing SHINY LEGGINGS. No, I’m not kidding. SHINY LEGGINGS. With STIRRUPS. Or, you know, like the latest pictorial of Madonna Ciccone-Penn-Ritchie and a radiant WWF in W magamazine. Or like Jennifer Aniston saying—PUBLICLY—that she has old tapes of Brad Pitt’s answering machine messages that she listens to now and again for nostalgia’s sake.

You know the sort of reaction I mean. It’s that wince and sharp inhale through your teeth that says, “Oh HONEY. Honey NO.” You know that wince?

Right, well that’s what Joequinn’s rapping inspires. S’not good. It’s a MOUNTAIN of s’not good. And as I’m sure you know, every mountain has its peak, its pinnacle, its apex. And this one is no exception.

Holiday Movie Guide, Retitled from "And So Begins Another Oscar Race, the Final Installment (Until After Christmas)" Or: Mickey Rourke Is Kind of Mesmerizing, and Not Just Cuz His Face is Effed

I went to see this movie for a few reasons. Firstly, it’s directed by Darren Aronofsky, who is one of my favorite directors and made Requiem for a Dream, which, along with PT Anderson’s Magnolia, was one of the very first movies I ever saw that made me neeeeeeeeeeed to learn about filmmaking. It’s a masterpiece.

Secondly, Marisa Tomei (TV’s A Different World) is in it, and we love her because we have no other option. She is Marisa Tomei.

Thirdly, it has been buzzed about for months because of Mickey Rourke’s performance.

A quick word about Mickey Rourke, in case you’re not familiar.

Holiday Movie Guide, Retitled from "And So Begins Another Oscar Race, Part 5," Or: I'm Kind of Afraid of Meryl Streep

Right?

So, it’s the one everyone’s talking about. In this corner, Meryl Streep as a merciless nun. In that corner, sad-sack Philip Seymour Hoffman at his sad-sackiest as a sad-sack priest who may or may not have a sad-sack heart of gold. Aaaand go!

Holiday Movie Guide, Retitled from "And So Begins Another Oscar Race, Part 4," Or: Nixon Really Was a Bit of a Shit, Huh?

In our (meaning me and my non-existent editorial team) continuing coverage of this year's panoply of Oscar-bait films, we take on a few more of the gems currently taking up screens at the local moviehouse, just in time for your annual trip to the cineplex to get the hell away from your sister's husband before you kick in his stupid face and your nagging grandma before you throw spiked egg nog in her eyes. Hurrah!

First up...