Best Picture 2004

"Do you know that people are moving to New Zealand just to be thanked?"

-Billy Crystal, during last year's Hobbit Stampede

That was the scene one year ago. What a difference a year makes.

This kooky (for lack of a mature word) clip from this week's Seattle Times ties right in there with my stance on this year's Oscars: it just doesn't feel right.

This time last year, we were absolutely blessed. Any year in which Master and Commander, Lost in Translation, and Seabiscuit are the movies that are doomed to lose is hardly a year at all . . . but a legend (I would like to point out how awesomely theatrical this sentence was). Even such commendable films as Big Fish, The Last Samurai and Cold Mountain had to be snuffed to make room for the greats. Had it not been for Peter Jackson and company, Mystic River would sit among Casablanca and One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. But the bar was set higher than Mt. Doom itself, and every fantastic film that gave its all ended up bowing before the King.
Did I mention that 2003 also featured Finding Nemo, American Splendor and Pirates of the Caribbean? No, I didn't. It did.

So what happened? Is anyone else feeling as unsatisfied as I am over this year's nominations? Not the choices, mind you, but the films themselves. I'm not disgusted, but rather left to think "Is this the best you've got?" Let's take a look at the five that are up for best.

I wouldn't call these "movie reviews." Those you can find in a paper or a magazine or a drunken monologue by some idiot who thinks he knows movies. Due to the fact that these are meant to inform your vote at your local Oscar party and determine if you should bother to see . . . alright, let's just call these Jon's movie reviews.

Finding Neverland
No one that I know had any doubts that Johnny Depp (the King Chameleon himself) could pull off whatever it was that this enchantment was going to try to pull off. When it comes down to it, he's just a solid actor, no matter how much or how little mascara you throw on him. Thanks largely in part to Depp, Neverland is the cleanest, purest, most proper of the year's nominations. It's like filtered Brita among puddles in a gravel parking lot. You follow?
Alright, that simile was brutal. Let me try again. Neverland is a focused, calming film, focusing on children and adults who mean to give nothing but love (I'm just afraid too many people think of Michael Jackson when watching this) and must suffer scathing judgment in doing so. Think of it as a good book in a rainstorm. It's escapist and fantastical and teary . . . and it's not for everyone.
Even though it should be. Neverland isn't going to walk away with Best Picture (I do, however, think it will win Best Score), but it has already taken flight with our hearts.

OH MAN THAT WAS SAPPY . . . LET'S GET SOME SOUL UP IN HERE

Ray
Smell the smoke, feel the keys, and just give Jamie Foxx the statue already. I'm serious. His transformation into Ray Charles is paramount among this year's performances, and it even deserves a place among the greatest of biopics (yes, of course that includes The Big Lebowski).
But the film itself comes up just a bit lacking. Foxx is perfect enough to make it seem like everything you're seeing is actual documentary footage . . . in which case, it seems like the director and/or editors had some trouble deciding what to show and when to show it. Ray Charles had a complex life, marked by a difficult heroin addiction. Got it. But the order in which we saw his battles with drugs, race, fidelity, and creativity . . . well there wasn't really an order. We were sort of blitzed by all these events, beginning the movie with a focus on race and ending with a focus on his mother. All are important parts to the story (and it is a pretty bitchin' story), but it the end the sound isn't perfect enough for a man with such precise hearing.

Sideways
Oh stumbly, grumbly Paul Giamatti . . . will you ever get your come-uppins?
You deserve them for Sideways, despite what the nominations may say. Whatever come-uppins are, you deserve them. You all do. I propose a toast.
To the hippest, catchiest, funniest, most intelligent film this side of Christopher Guest and Charlie Kaufman (in case you don't know: those two are hip, catchy, funny and intelligent) - may you overcome the buzz (not from the wine, mind you, but from the fact that everyone likes you) that precedes you and prove you are worthy of dining with Oscar himself. You're more adult and real than most real adults, and your taste in humor and dialogue has a refreshing "and haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and . . . ancient" flavor that may only improve as time goes by.
Then again, this title among the Best Pictures of all time would stick out like a stick in some out.

The Aviator
I went in expecting power, money, sex, drugs, and swing. What I started to see was a twisted soul in a filmed stage production. I liked it.

And I'm exhausted. I'll come back and think about Million Dollar Baby in comparison to The Aviator . . . after I see the former. It's gonna be one of those two.

And may God help you if Shrek 2 beats The Incredibles.