Oscar nominations are up.
 
Immediate thoughts: I’m glad Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon cleaned up, but Wonder Boys got shafted big time. Damn. I love me some Tobey Maguire. I’m suffering from a case of severe Kate Hudson Backlash and I haven’t even seen the damn movie yet. She’s on the cover of every bloody magazine in London! Gladiator has got to be the most overrated film since Titanic. Yes, Russell Crowe was hot. But his swordplay didn’t even come close to Ewan McGregor’s in The Phantom Menace (which shall be my all-time standard for such things). And it even recycled the “revenge-your-dead-soulmate-while-still-hooking-up-with-the-royal-hottie” plotline that I loathed so much from Braveheart! I tried to watch Erin Brockovich on an airplane and it was just too damn boring. Yes, that’s right, I’d rather read the in-flight magazine for the 3rd time than watch plucky lawyer Julia jiggle her breasts for two hours. She can sport all the lower-class SlutWear in the world and carry three brats on each hip, and little ol’ non-celebrity me still ain’t gonna identify with her. Suspension of disbelief only goes so far. And what’s up with Soderbergh‘s double-nod? I guess Hollywood just loves to congratulate the sell-out. (Note to Steve: Re-watch sex lies and videotape, write something along those lines, and give James Spader a call. Please. Love, Kris)
 
Whew! I feel better now that I’ve got that off my chest. Now I’m off to Plastic to reproduce my rant on the inevitable post there. What fun!

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