The First of Many Bullshit Blog Posts About the Oscars.

The nominations for the 81st Academy Awards came out this morning, and they are surprising to no one. All the nominations can be found here; after the jump, I’ll go through that list and ramble and grumble and complain like an 87-year-old man who hasn’t been fed his applesauce yet and who derives absolutely no joy whatsoever from a life that, cruelly and inconceivably, seems will never end. Which, as faithful Mercury readers no doubt know, is exactly who I am.

First off, some of these are just extraneous: Best Actor is gonna go to Mickey Rourke for The Wrestler, I fact I know not because I’ve seen the film yet but because everyone’s been telling me how fucking fantastic Rourke is in this over and over for at least six months. (Where were the members of the Academy for Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for Rourke’s bravura turn in Once Upon a Time in Mexico, I ask?) And Supporting Actor will go to Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight—not because he deserves it (which he does) but because the Academy loves nothing more than to get all emo and tribute-y, and the idea of a young, talented actor dying before his time, while also turning in arguably the year’s best performance, is just too much for Academy voters to resist. (I’m glad to see Robert Downey, Jr. got nominated in this category, too, though; if it weren’t for Ledger’s Joker, I feel pretty confident in saying Downey, Jr.’s turns in Tropic Thunder and Iron Man were probably the funnest, most clever performances of 2008.)

I don’t mean to sound dismissive or misogynist here, but I don’t really care about Best Actress this year. I’m going to root for Anne Hathaway though, just because while watching Get Smart on a cross-country flight a few months ago, I developed a pretty serious crush on her, and also because I don’t want to see Doubt win anything.

Okay, shit. Never mind. Except for Supporting Actress. Viola Davis only had one or two scenes in Doubt, but she was fucking awesome in them, and she made you wish the actual movie around her was better. Her performance is probably too restrained and understated for Oscar voters, though, so she probably won’t win. That said, if Penelope Cruz wins for Vicky Cristina Barcelona, I bet she’ll get so excited that she’ll give Anne Hathaway a celebratory hug or something! Or a celebratory makeout. That happens, right? Starting now, I’m going to see if I can keep my fingers crossed the entire time until the Oscars air on February 22.

Animated Feature Film should go to Wall-E, or fuck everything and there’s no justice in this world. Ever year this category is such a goddamn joke. They managed to scrape together Bolt and Kung Fu Panda for “competition” here, but they might as well give this Oscar to Pixar in perpetuity and stop this sad little charade that lets the people who made Kung Fu Panda get excited for a few minutes, only to be inevitably ground down and crushed and rejected. (Wall-E was actually probably my favorite theatrical release of the year, but the Academy invented this thin category specifically to keep animated flicks out of the “real” Best Picture category, so instead of being nominated for Best Picture, here it is, alongside a movie about a superpowered dog that talks like John Travolta and a movie about a fat panda that talks like Jack Black.)

Art Direction: The Dark Knight, I suppose. I base this on the visuals of the slick new Batcave alone. I’m angry Hellboy II: The Golden Army didn’t get nominated here.

Cinematography: Slumdog Millionaire, easy, though Dark Knight‘s pretty awesomely shot, too.

Costume Design: As I’m totally unqualified to say anything about this category whatsoever, I’ll turn it over to my esteemed colleague Marjorie Skinner, since she helps me go clothes shopping! Marjorie seemed pretty bored by these nominees, and pointed out the only interesting outfits in Australia were “when Nicole Kidman was dressed up as Mary Poppins.” (Burn!) “Altogether they don’t seem that great,” she said. “The Duchess seems like it was way cooler than the other ones.” YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST, PEOPLE!

Directing: I’m wary to write what I’m about to write, because one of ’em’s our hometown boy and all, but two of these nominees simply don’t deserve to be on here, for the simple reason that they got carried away with sappy, maudlin bullshit moments that totally kicked you out of their movies: Gus Van Sant’s Milk comes really close to being dragged under by a few really amateurish scenes (that gay kid in the wheelchair—UGH—and that TV movie-quality opera house nonsense), and pretty much all of David Fincher’s Benjamin Button is nothing but sappy, maudlin bullshit. So we’re left with The Reader, Frost/Nixon, and Slumdog, and I think I want this to go to Danny Boyle—Slumdog wasn’t the best film this year, but it was impressively directed. Out of a pretty weak category, Boyle’s the best of these contenders, and his take on his material was the most interesting and engaging.

Documentary Feature: You want proof of how useless the Oscars are? Here you go: Werner Herzog’s nomination here for Encounters at the End of the World is the first goddamn time Herzog’s ever been nominated for an Oscar. This fact is mind-boggling. If Werner doesn’t win this, I will stab whoever is sitting closest to me when I’m watching them. FAIR WARNING. (Also if he does win, I’m predicting the best acceptance speech ever—it will be whimsical and funny because of his accent, but it will also make you realize the utter futility of life, and then maybe he’ll get shot and act all nonchalant about it. God I love him.)

Documentary Short: Hey, Oscars! Know how everyone bitches about how watching your awards ceremony takes 14 hours? Cut this category out. No one will even notice, I promise.

Film Editing: Again, Slumdog.

Foreign Language Film: Let the Right One In wasn’t submitted by Sweden for competition here, which means (A) Sweden is really fucking stupid, or maybe just ashamed to submit a genre film into competition, and (B) I guess this will have to go to somebody else. Waltz with Bashir opens in Portland at the Fox Tower 10 on Jan 30th and Marjorie says it’s amazing; Alison Hallett saw The Class months and months and months ago and had similarly nice things to say about that one, but I’ve heard nothing on it since in terms of it ever actually being released here.

Makeup: Any of these films—Benjamin Button, Hellboy II, Dark Knight—could win and it would be fine. They should just declare it a tie.

Music (Score): Slumdog, again.

Music (Song): Slumdog, again, “O Saya.”

Best Picture: I swear to god, it’s not that Slumdog is the greatest movie of all time or anything—it really isn’t—but it just seems to be the strongest out of a really underwhelming slate of nominees, here. Personally I’d have liked to see Wall-E or even The Dark Knight here, but as long as Slumdog takes this, I won’t be too upset. Weak, though.

Short Film (Animated): No one saw any of these.

Short Film (Live Action): Even fewer people saw any of these.

Sound Editing: Ha! Wanted got nominated for an Oscar! That’s hilarious. That said, Wall-E should get this—the sound work Ben Burtt did on this thing is just astounding.

Sound Mixing: Ha! Wanted got nominated for two Oscars! Now things are just getting fucking stupid. I’d say Wall-E again on this, though.

Visual Effects: Hellboy II. I know it wasn’t nominated, but are you fucking kidding me? Those puppets! Troll market! Like every frame of this thing! The fact that Guillermo Del Toro actually uses tangible things on set instead of CGing everything! Back in my day, this computer cartoon business just wasn’t used in every goddamn scene, and it was the fashion of the time to hang an onion on one’s belt, and when that sassy Sally Jenkins had the spirit to ask me over a cold sarsaparilla if I’d take her to the spring cotillion… Wha! Bah! Where was I? Benjamin Button! Even if old man Pitt did look a little too CG rubbery in a few shots.

Writing (Adapted Screenplay): Doubt screws itself over with its final scene, and Slumdog‘s strength is in its verve, not in its writing. Benjamin Button is this. I don’t know on these other two. If I was allowed to vote, I’d write in Death Race, just ’cause it’s technically an adaptation of the Death Race 2000 script, but mostly because it has Joan Allen saying “cocksucker” in it. I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE OR WHAT KIND OF MOVIES YOU LIKE, THAT’S JUST GOOD WRITING.

Writing (Original Screenplay): This is kind of the only Oscar I care about—year after year, the film that wins this award is usually the actual best film of the year. (I said usually—let’s forget that Juno business.) I desperately want Wall-E to win this one, but I’m also kind of rooting for dark horse contender In Bruges. In Bruges kinda falls apart in its third act, and the script, by writer/director/playwright Martin McDonagh, feels a bit overly stiff and theatrical at points, but it’s still got more personality, punch, and sharp humor than most of the other stuff released this year.

In summation, grumble grumble bitch moan. Also, I will be liveblogging the Oscars when they air on February 22, so come back here for that. Also, in the time until February 22, I will be out back, crudely whittling my own awards out of some scrap lumber I found behind the Mercury‘s office building, then anonymously sending them in ominous-looking packages to the filmmakers that I decree are most worthy of recognition. The first is an award that I shall send to both Penelope Cruz and Anne Hathaway, and it’s probably best if I don’t go into too much detail about it. Congratulations, ladies!