BUSTER CALLS THE OSCARS (Or, As I Like It)

SO IT'S AWARD SEASON, and the nominations are in. Being the son of a Director, I have stacks and stacks of screeners I've filled my days with since my DUI-imposed house arrest, and have a pretty damned good idea of who's winning what. Since I'm not interested in most of the films that are up, let me just say this before I call my picks: Watch Milk.

Now let's dive right in, shall we?

NUMERO UNO: BEST EDITING
I know, I know, nobody gives a shit about this one, but if you watch Milk, you'll see that this is an integral part of moviemaking that's often overlooked by the general public (read: You, Motherfucker). The intercutting, the flashbacks, the timing, the transitions, all perfect and spot-on.
Call It: Elliot Graham for Milk.

NUMERO DOS: BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Taraji P. Henderson in Benjamin Butthead. She's come a long way from Baby Boy's pivotal scene. "LEMME SMELL YO DICK, NUGGUH!"

NUMERO TRES: BEST ACTRESS
Honestly, I don't really give a shit about this category, A. Because I'm Sexist, B. Because all of the movies I've either not seen or were total shit. Consequently, I'm going to write in my choice for this category with NAOMI WATTS IN FUNNY GAMES. That movie was the creepiest god damned thing of all time, but Naomi played the part of a hostage/housewife to a T. Check it. But as for the actual award, I have no idea.
End Thoughts: No Clue.

NUMERO CUATRO: BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
If Slumdog Millionaire had been an original screenplay, it would've been a lock. The flashbacks, the structure of the gameshow as a narrative device, the funny, sad, beautiful parts that characterize that film are amazing. But it was based on a book, so the award goes to Dustin Lance Black (who according to my friend is "a little cocksucking hottie") for his epic work on Milk.
Win Win Win: Dustin Lance Black for Milk.


CINCO CINCO CINCO: BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
This one's kind of a coin toss. I'd love to see Robert Downey Jr. get a win for Kirk Lazarus, given that it's one of the funniest, movie-making inside-joke jabs at another actor, and it was such a ballsy move to wear fucking blackface in a major motion picture, but again, politics rears its ugly head and pretty much hands this one to Heath Ledger for two reasons. One, he gave a great performance in spite of all that hammy bullshit lip-licking, and Two, THAT NIGGA DIED! Tragic overdose takes a star before his time, and all that jazz. I think this one's dependent on who receives his award posthumously. If Michelle Williams accepts it for him, or if they can get his daughter to say a few words, or his parents, it's a lock. If they can't figure out who to book for the acceptance, then it's RDJ, baby.
Bottom Line: Heath Ledger as the Joker.


NUMERO SEIS: BEST ACTOR
This one's kind of a toughie. Given the politics behind the Academy Awards, it's difficult to judge the call based on outright performance. Try as they might to say that performances are subjective, I know that it's based on who's sucking enough metaphorical dick. Should it be based on performance alone, the award would go to Sean Penn's beautiful, enchanting, captivating characterization of San Francisco Supervisor Harvey Milk. But fuck, Sean, you already won in '03 for that mediocre Mystic River! So it tips the scales a little bit in Mickey's favor for his heartbreakingly honest Randy "The Ram" Robinson, but he already got his Golden Globe, so fuck him. All I know is that if Brad Pitt wins for his down-home southern drawl and CGI masked performance in that shit-streak of a film Blah Blah Blah Benjamin Button, I'm gonna shave my head and climb a clock tower with an assault rifle and take potshots at people driving BMWs.
Tally Up: Sean Penn as Milk.


NUMERO SIETE: BEST PICTURE
Best Picture is soooo fucking hard this year. As 2008 progressed, I really only left two movies going, "Wow, that fucker better win." Those films were, in order of my watching them, Slumdog Millionaire and Milk. The truth of the matter is, I generally hate most Best Picture winners. I hated Crash, hated A Beautiful Mind, was bored shitless by Chicago, and LOATHED Million Dollar Baby. But lately, they're getting good. The Departed was fucking B.A. and made me go get into fights for kicks and No Country for Old Men made me weep because I knew I'd never make a film that good. But Slumdog and Milk were both really, genuinely well-made films. Since I've been to India but I've never been gay, I'm gonna go with the former.
CHECKMATE: Slumdog Millionaire.

Ladies and Gentlemen, keep in mind, I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, I'm just highly opinionated. That said, enjoy your Oscars!