Well, ladies and gents, we can now move ahead toward a time of economic prosperity and racial harmony, because Barack Obama has been sworn into office. What's that? You're still unemployed and your boss keeps referring to you by prejudiced terminology? Oh, bummer. Guess one man can't change everything.
But even if you haven't been swept up in Obama-as-Messiah fever (ironic given his presidency signals an end to high government as guise for holier-than-thou demagoguery), we can all agree it was pretty sweet to see George W. Bush (and don't call him Prez) sent off on that helicopter one last time.
Not as sweet as seeing the likes of Mike Myers and Cameron Diaz get sliced and diced by the Razzies of course. So without any last-minute presidential pardoning, here are the top 5 things we learned this week.
5. Katy Perry may pretend she likes to kiss girls and is preciously cute when calling other people gay, but apparently she'll settle for nothing but the straight dish when tabloids report on her sex life, or lack thereof.
4. Britney Spears is somehow being raked over the coals for the suggestive phonetic pronunciation of her new single. Meanwhile, no one raised an ounce of cain over Van Halen's non-too-subliminal epithet placement within the titular acronym of their 1991 album. Guess parents were less afraid of Sammy Hagar gettin' their teenage tots in a heated lather.
Sorry I took so long to respond to this morning's Oscar announcements. I was busy telling other people that they should pretend they were drying their hair to avoid pertinent obligations.
In any event, we've all soaked in the 2009 Oscar nominations by this point, letting it roll around our epidermis like a hot Aveeno bath. And while most people are bemoaning the exclusion of Dark Knight in the Best Picture competition, I, for one, am celebrating a hat trick of unexpected and spectacular choices in the individual acting categories (and yes, expressing serious misgivings about The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button's Best Picture nod.
Let's be honest. Much as we adore celeb ass-kiss fests like The Golden Globes for their red-carpet do's and dont's and self-involved on-stage theatrics, the only ceremony where the actual nominees and recipients capture our rapt attention are The Razzies, which celebrate the year's biggest stinkers. And like a giant Hollywood catheter, drain the piss out of La La Land.
And per usual, they're both on point with the obvious selections (like Mike Myers and The Love Guru spearheading the pack via seven Razzie nods), and remarkably, and hilariously, observant in highlighting some of the most talent-deficient "thespians" that still somehow incur our adoration (Mark Wahlberg, Kate Hudson, Cameron Diaz).
Of course, they left out one unconventional nod for Worst Movie of 2008, which would be the surreally overrated NCDSUV Sucks recipient, The Wrestler. Ah well, no use having sour raspberries.
Welcome to NCDSUV's splenetic, embittered new weekly feature, Overdressed & Underclassed, which with each installment will dissect a different aspect of celebrity fashion with the enthusiasm and exactitude of a taxidermist suffering from the second clinical phase of rabies (caution: We have reached the contagious stage).
Flicking on the television or going online no longer offers a brief moment of respite from your hectic day, so when I tuned into red carpet portion of the Golden Globes I was hoping for an indulgent, preferably 24-carat-gold gilded respite from reality. I wanted a scene of shameless, tacky, hedonistic, materialistic display along the lines of (for the men) diamond-and-ruby encrusted boleros and (for the ladies) hot-pink, satin 10-inch-high stiletto heels that clash with the red carpet and light up when they strut. Was I expecting too much? Of course not. This is Hollywood, where dreams come true. Here's the eight most delightfully gaudy debutantes and dudes from last night's ceremony.
8. Lisa Rinna Never one to insinuate if she can noisily promulgate, the TVGuide' network's red carpet host (and soon-to-be-second-time-Playboy model) treated us to more than her usual heaping handful o' cleave. This year, we got to three inches of pectoriloquy to ogle as she giggled inanely, fumbled over her script and beat the brows of whichever celeb had somehow happened to fall into her arthritic clutches. Lisa captures many of the qualities cherished by profligate lovers of all things skin-deep: a laser-like commitment to superficiality that involves the excessive use of botox, facial fillers and Pilates machines; a love of all things low-cut and high-cut, preferably at the same time; a copious sprinkling of shiny things on and about her person; and silver sequins.
7. Olivia Wilde Olivia infused the red carpet with every starry-eyed 7-year-old girl's vision of elegance. She floated along in a strapless, floor-length pale lilac-pink Reem Acra confection that looked like it had been produced in a quiet forest glen by Cinderella's tweeting avian pals, with nothing but pink cotton candy, organza and buttercream frosting with which to toil. A giant pair of diamond snowflake earrings, an innocently smiley countenance and gleaming, shiny hair completed the nostalgic glance down princess lane.
6. Jennifer Lopez If a designer's producing a dress cut down to the navel, bless her heart, Jenny From the Block's gotta have it. J. Lo, with her trademark deer-in-headlights idiot savant pop enthusiasm, slathered on the razzle dazzle our quickly graying country is thirsting for. From her belly baring, elegantly draped gold Greek goddess Marchesa dress (which brings to mind the more innocent days of 2000. when she wore the infamous ab-flashing Versace) to her tasteful but still ridunkulously massive diamond drop earrings, J. Lo is La La Land. Calgon, take me away!
5. Debra Messing Her hair, pulled back into what at first glance appeared to be a smooth and elegant ponytail, but then ZOWIE! explodes like a hirsute B52 into a bloodshot tumble weed, is notable enough. But Big Red, as always, kicks up it up a notch, in the form of diamond and emerald teardrop (if Cyclops shed tears, they'd be about this size) earrings that threaten to unbalance her equilibrium and turn her dramatic sweep down the carpet into a slip n' slide. And let's not forget the chartreuse eye shadow applied with a trowel onto her entire lid. Her dress was the mottled color of a particularly painful bruise with an interesting set of pelvis-accentuating ruffles, which is perhaps an exciting and innovative new way to catch the boys' eyes.
They say that after the Super Bowl, more people call in sick due to hangovers than any other day of the year. Well, clearly they're not nursing the pounding headache we incurred from three hours of Hollywood rubbing their hobnobby elitism in our faces and engaging in in-jokey speeches and self-congratulatory asides.
Ah yes, the Golden Globes. What an evening it was. There were so many moments worth acknowledging, some of them even marinated with poignant merit (Steven Spielberg's speech was actually pretty great) and others soaked in giant barrels of ugh (In Bruges seems great Colin Farrell, but dating Britney Spears and having a sex tape leaked sort of undermines the credibility of your speech about artistic integrity).
Anyway, before the remaining parasites throughout the blogosphere feed off the remaining drips of blood from last night's broadcast, here's the top five things NCDSUV learned from enduring the awards ceremony.
5. After Kate Winslet's heeeelarious, Hilary Swank/Chad Lowe-worthy failure to acknowledge fellow Best Actress nominee Anne Hathaway (who was shown pre-envelope-opening giddily praying her life would be validated with a win), NCDSUV breathed a sigh of relief as big as Hathaway's bug eyes, because it was evident we're not the only ones who realize she sucks.
4. Tracy Morgan is legitimately a bit nuts, but at least his lack of filter provided the only comedic speech that wasn't overly scripted or reliant on alienating elbow jabs to fellow celebrities.
As we gear up for the holidays, Hollywood has no intent on settling down its array of shenanigans. Particularly as it revs its self-promotional engine and rings in the start of awards season.
Yes, the big news this week (well, apart from that awful business surrounding Mark Ruffalo's brother, but let's not dwell on the morbid) involved Heath Ledger getting one last laugh after his tragic death, thanks to his work as The Joker in Dark Knight being recognized amidst the Golden Globe nominees.
But there was also the minor matter of Britney Spears' comeback, not to mention, Heather Chadwell getting the steel-toed stripper boot from Rock Of Love Charm School. So without further shenanigans of our own, here are the top five things we learned this week:
5. Apparently, there's a groundswell of second-generation punk fans just creaming their pants for the opportunity to revisit GG Allin's propensity for not wearing any.
Yes, yes, it's that time of year again: The inconsequential nominations for the inconsequential awards show that precedes the increasingly irrelevant "real" awards show of the late winter. Or in other words, the nominations for the 2009 Golden Globes, which indiscriminately toss statues at a hodgepodge of entertainment mediums and allow people like Ben Stiller to sit with fingers viably crossed that they will be among the honorees.
If anything, the Globes serve to narrow down the widened field of conjecture to a slightly narrower, but no less subjective, crop of Oscar probables. And if you want to see the whole convoluted collection of attention-whores, go here. But if you're like Mary-Kate Olsen and just want the skinny, here it is: Heath Ledger was acknowledged in the Best Supporting Actor category, while The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button, Frost/Nixon, Milk, Doubt, Danny Boyle, Ron Howard,Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman comprise and epitomize the big names in luminary categories.
But what's really, well, curious, is the assortment of nutbars in Best Actor, Drama. Come 2008, I wouldn't exactly expect to find a guy who had sex with Lisa Bonet while covered in blood (Mickey Rourke), Spicoli (Sean Penn), the new kid from Growing Pains (Leonardo Dicaprio), the protagonist from teen-slasher flick Cutting Class and Skeletor from the He-Man movie (Frank Langella) all lopped together.
If that's not evidence of what a loopy plot of land Hollywood is, then I sure as heckfire (or even Doubtfire) don't know what is.