Ask Mrs. Odie

I’m still mad about the Oscars. You’re from a show-biz background so I’ll ask you: is the Oscars just a popularity contest? Is it just like Congress, where you have to make deals in order to get something you want (an oscar?). I mean – I saw “Silver LInings Playbook”. It was okay. I bought the dvd from a bootlegger and at $3 I was glad I hadn’t invested any more $ (Had I spent $30 at the movie theatre I would have been disgruntled.) And another question: are the results leaked beforehand?
Thanks!
Rosie

Hi, Rosie. The short answer to your question is yes.

Film studios spend millions of dollars on Awards Campaigns. They take out ads in magazines, newspapers, and on radio and television. They pay PR firms to promote the film via social media. The stars are contractually obligated to do press for the film, going on talk shows and landing in the gossip columns (that latter part is “unofficial” publicity, where the agents and managers do some nudge-nudge-wink-winking). A conversation might go something like this. “Remember when Britney Spears got photographed without underwear on? Wow, that must have been the number one story on every outlet for a week! Have a great workout, Anne!”

Have you seen the Netflix Original series “House of Cards”? In one episode, the puppet master, Francis Underwood (Kevin Spacey), orchestrates it so a bunch of news commentators start wondering if the president will nominate So-and-So for Secretary of State because Underwood planted the story with a reporter he’s banging. Within hours, the reporters’ musings become so ubiquitous, the president actually has to consider the question he never even thought to ask until it was asked on TV.

So, when everyone from Letterman to Chelsea Handler starts asking Anne Hathaway, “What would it be like to win an Oscar?”, you already know what happens. Future actors are going to have to up their games, though. When Hathaway went on a diet of her own shorn hair and the open hostility of her new husband to method-act the shit out of “Les Mis,” everyone knew she was gunning for Oscar. She upped the ante for future Oscar grubbers. Jodie Foster wore a WIG for “The Accused”, and Nicole Kidman put on a prosthetic nose. Amateurs. The way this competition is going, future actors will have disfiguring plastic surgery to put themselves in the running for those gold (plated) statues.

Many believe that the negative publicity surrounding the torture depicted in “Zero Dark Thirty” cost Bigelow’s film the top nod, and made Jessica Chastain’s Oscar go to Jennifer Lawrence.

As for the latter, JLaw has this certain “I would totally have sex with an overweight fifty-seven year-old man if he made me laugh” thing going on that makes Academy Members vote for her. The studio knew what it was doing. Did you notice all the pre-Oscar TV ads for the film featured her instead of Bradley Cooper or DeNiro? Watching her on the red carpet, I see she has perfected that “contractual smoldering peek over her shoulder at Harvey Weinstein during the act” look. She’s a talented actress, and they were going to give her an Oscar no matter what, just like Julia Roberts (back in my day) was going to get one for the same reason. Jennifer Lawrence’s win mirrors Roberts’ in many ways. Julia played a sexy bad girl in “Mystic Pizza” and became famous for it. The second she was in a movie with Sally Field (“Steel Magnolias” 1989), the Academy knew it could nominate her for an Oscar. Brenda Fricker beat her that year, but the next year she was in the top spot for reminding old men that hookers LOVE sex with billionaires decades older than themselves. They all wheezed a collective sigh of relief when she finally did a film for which they could give her the damn Oscar.

I didn’t see “Silver Linings” but didn’t JLaw have a relationship with a man old enough to be her dad? Hmmmm. I’d say that if you’re a juicy young actress and you don’t want to shave your head, pluck out your eyebrows, or drink egg whites to put on 11 pounds of pure muscle, play a nymphomaniac in a semi-serious film where your character is tickling the nutsack of a much older man who in real life would never get a chick that hot. “And the award goes to…” could very well be in your future.

As to your question about leaking the results, I know that there are Vegas odds on the results. Gamblers place bets and money changes hands. I am sure the information is available ahead of time to the right person for the right price. Whether or not that actually transpires, I have no idea.

I hope you enjoyed this edition of “Ask Mrs. Odie” (and reading her wild speculations about shit)! Keep the questions coming!

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New Feature: Ask Mrs. Odie

Welcome to my newest blog feature, “Ask Mrs. Odie.” Sometimes in the comments, readers ask me questions that inspire me. Without any further ado, here is this week’s question:

“Just curious, since you are an English teacher. What do you think the top must read books are?” –Mrs.Dubose of http://upontheheart.blogspot.com

“Must read books” fall into two categories for me. One is books I enjoyed so completely, I feel like they are part of me. The other is books I love telling people I read because it makes me feel superior to them. If we were to use the Double Bubble Map discussed in the comments section of a recent post, we would discover some overlap.

If your question is, “Mrs. Odie, which books should I read in order to not only think like you, but really understand how your literary mind was formed?”

I’m flattered you asked. When I was in college studying Comparative Literature, I had a moment of enlightenment. I got it. I understood the literary references I’d been hearing all my life. Tilting at windmills. Beware the ides of March. Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee. Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.

I felt like I was IN THE CLUB. The best club you could ever be in. Here are the books that make you feel like you finally get what everyone is alluding to:
The New Testament
The Epic of Gilgamesh
Beowulf
Hamlet, Julius Caesar, Othello, Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare
Don Quixote, Cervantes
The Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri
The Odyssey, Homer
Long Day’s Journey into Night, Eugene O’Neill
To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf
Symposium, Plato
Civilization and its Discontents, Sigmund Freud
Oedipus Rex, Sophocles
A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer
Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Dubliners, James Joyce (preferably read in Dublin pubs while drinking Guinness, like I did) I read Ulysses, and while I used to feel quite haughty about it, I’d never recommend it to another person unless you are studying it with a professor doing his doctoral dissertation on it, like I was.
Metamorphosis, Kafka
The Scarlet Letter, Hawthorne
The Fall of the House of Usher, “The Tell-Tale Heart,” “The Raven”, Edgar Allan Poe
Poems by Emily Dickinson
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain
The Awakening, Kate Chopin
The Red Badge of Courage, Stephen Crane
To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
The Stranger, The Plague, Albert Camus
Maus I and II, Art Spiegelman
Animal Farm, George Orwell
Beloved, Toni Morrison
Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger
Of Mice and Men, John Steinbeck

I just realized that this list could go on for a very long time. I’m sitting here in a euphoric remembrance, as though I’d just taken a nibble of a Madeleine and had my whole intellectual life wash over me in a wave of pleasure. Typing the titles of these books causes me to remember not only their content but who I was when I read them. The smell of books. My favorite coffee-house in Davis, California, before Starbucks was a household word.

I’m not suggesting for a moment that I loved or even liked every one of these books. I do believe, though, that a person who wants to be culturally literate ought to be familiar with them.

Notice any glaring omissions? I have purposely not included The Great Gatsby. I think it’s over-rated. I don’t enjoy teaching it, and I never understood why so many name it as their favorite book they read in high school. It is The Fair Gatsby, at best. The Ghastly Gatsby, at worst.

Now, for my favorite books ever. The books I loved. I read voraciously. It’s a cliché to say so, but how does a cliché become a cliché? When I was nursing Pringles, I got my first Nook Color (I now have the much ligher Nook HD), and I have read over seventy books since I began. Pringles is 20 months old. I’m ashamed to admit that those books include all 11 “Sookie Stackhouse” novels (pure drek, but entertaining) and all 7 of the “Outlander Series,” which is like time-travelling lady-porn.

The book I read most recently, or rather inhaled in two days, is Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. Here are some others, in no particular order.
The Shining, Misery, Insomnia, Carrie and pretty much everything by Stephen King
The House of Mirth and The Age of Innocence (I don’t know how Ethan Frome is the only Edith Wharton approved book on our school list)
Gone with the Wind
The Color Purple
The Bean Trees and Pigs in Heaven
A Song of Fire and Ice
(the Game of Thrones series)
A Drink Before the War, and all of Dennis LeHane
I Feel Bad About my Neck, Nora Ephron
Charlotte’s Web, E.B. White
Elements of Style, Strunk and White
A Confederacy of Dunces
A Widow for One Year, John Irving. Everything he writes is fantastic. Shockingly so. Enviously so.
I recommend Still Life with Rice by Lee when people ask me for memoirs.

Finally, it is with pride and in a tone that’s snide I declare to you that I have read neither Fifty Shades of Gray (Grey?) nor the Twilight series.

Thank you for asking, Mrs. Dubose. It was fun to think about.

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