Farts and Oscars

And the Award for horrible host decisions goes to: The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science. The Oscars (the uppity people who gave Best Picture statutes to stuffy, pretentious movies like “The Kings Speech” and “The Artist” in recent years) has decided to tap into the cultural blood stream (of 7 years ago) and hired Seth MacFarlane to host next year. Cue the fart jokes.

Seth MacFarlane. The diminishing return behind “Family Guy” and “American Dad.” Don’t get me wrong, back in the day I loved “Family Guy.” It was a riot for a while. But, somewhere around the second “Star Wars” special it got tedious (as was that special, btw). I can’t even get through an episode now without fighting extreme boredom.

The Oscars have been trying to get “hip” for awhile now. There was the Franco/Hathaway fiasco. Then they tried to get Eddie Murphy (because “RAW” was so funny and edgy) but he ended up bailing on them (so they brought back in that guy from “When Harry Met Sally”). So naturally they turn to Stewie Griffin.

I’ve stopped trying to second guess The Academy’s bad decisions. From the nominees to the winners to the hosts…it’s like they do everything they can to suck. Perhaps that’s the goal. If it is, they win.

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One thought on “Farts and Oscars

  1. While I have yet to see “The Artist,” I have seen “The King’s Speech,” and I must say sir, that I will have to disagree with you on that one.

    Yes I know that this movie was made pretty much to win an Oscar, but at the end of the day it really is a fantastic movie with strong acting. I think where it falls short for some is the fact that you have to either be a little bit of history buff, and/ or have suffered from a speech impediment.
    Since I happend to fall into both categories, the movie felt like an old friend the first time I watched it.

    I think one of the most successful things the movie does, is take an event that we all know (or can easily find out) the outcome of, and make it still feel tense. When Firth stands in front of the microphone at the end, you feel the weight of tension that is sitting on him like a drunk elephant on boxing day.

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