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Obsessing Over the Bullshittery of Award Shows

You’ve probably noticed my adorable obsession with Paul Thomas Anderson and I have no qualms admitting that this man is the most important filmmaker of our time and his lack of appreciation at awards show actually makes him cooler and better and more important. But I’m furious and here’s why.

Anderson’s Boogie Nights is perhaps more appreciated than Magnolia and I’m ok with that. I love Magnolia an unhealthy amount but not much more than I love Boogie Nights. Here’s the Academy Awards breakdown for Boogie Nights which spins me into a rage.

Burt Reynolds was nominated for Best Supporting Actor for beautifully, frustratingly playing a producer/director in the pornography business who acts as the paternal figure for a beautiful arrangement of misfits and outcasts and gives our main character his big break. The award went to Robin Williams for Good Will Hunting. Robin Williams is a national treasure and gave a beautiful performance in this film, but Burt Reynolds was better in Boogie Nights than Robin Williams was in Good Will Hunting.

Julianne Moore got a Best Supporting Actress nomination for making a despicable woman lovely any an object of mass sympathy (as she is so want to do) but this went to Kim Basinger for L.A. Confidential. Meh.

And finally, P.T. Anderson got another Best Original Screenplay nomination which he lost to Ben Affleck and Matt Damon. I blame the Academy for rocketing these two bros into superstardom and cursing us with Bennifer, those Bourne movies, and AFFLECK AS FUCKING BATMAN. HARD NO. Give Anderson every writing award there is please. If only for the William H. Macy line that was supposed to be, “My fucking wife’s on the driveway with a fucking cock in her ass” in which he switched cock and ass. And Anderson kept that in the final cut. It’s beautiful. And deserves mantel statues!

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