Note: This was written as part of The Dissolve commentariat’s tribute to Nathan Rabin.
In a recent piece, Nathan Rabin reflected on a vicious review his memoir received, which baselessly took him to task for snark and cynicism.
Although this particular review didn’t have much ground to stand on, he (rather generously) concedes:
I realized I sometimes used humor, or at least jokiness, as a crutch so I resolved to be more nakedly sincere and open in my writing.
As a committed luddite and card-carrying hipster douchebag, I obviously have no regular access to a medium so pedestrian as “television.” But as someone shaped by the technology around me and in some ways desirous of it — let’s call this the “robot” part of the equation — I also obviously seize every opportunity to watch someone else’s television whenever possible.
Note: This was originally posted as part of The Dissolve commentariat’s tribute to Nathan Rabin. The idea was to continue some of the columns he started before he was unceremoniously bounced. Thanks, Nathan, for being the most consistently entertaining and insightful pop culture writer working today, and apologies in advance for the pale facsimile that follows.
When I first decided to embark on a quest to watch each of the films in Roger Ebert’s Great Movies series, I couldn’t help noticing that the list of familiar names and titles excluded vast parts of the filmmaking and -watching world.
So, now that the awards season is blissfully over, let’s talk about some other movies. Specifically, 370 of them.
After watching Steve James’ remarkable documentary Life Itself (excuse me while I go weep), I got to thinking about Roger Ebert.
And the rest of the business for the Oscars. First part’s here; second part’s here.
Best Visual Effects
Will win – Dawn of the Planet of the Apes
I could see this going to either Captain America: The Winter Soldier or Interstellar instead, but Dawn of the Planet of the Apes features significantly more horseback-riding apes firing machine guns, always the “x factor” in decisions like these.
Let’s start from a generally uncontroversial place: The Oscars are nonsense. Just utter bullshit. We are idiots for paying a single moment of attention to them.
And yet. Like many goofballs, I can’t turn away. It’s like playing craps in one of the less reputable Vegas casinos, in downtown rather than on the Strip.
It’s awards season, and there’s no shortage of commentary. I might chime in myself in a few weeks. (Spoilers: Boyhood, Ida, The Immigrant, Under The Skin, and Noah would win all the things if it were up to me, and Uma Thurman would get a best Supporting Actress nod for Nymphomaniac Vol 1 — it is not, it turns out, up to me.)
Reflecting, in 1967, on the experience of seeing old movies on TV, notorious curmudgeon/amazing writer Pauline Kael wrote, “Horror and fantasy films … are surprisingly effective, perhaps because they are so primitive in their appeal that the qualities of the imagery matter less than the basic suggestions.
