
If I could call back
All those days of yesteryear
I would never grow old
And I’d never be poor
But darlin, those days are gone.
Stop dreaming
And live on in the future
But darling, don’t look back
And so it was with this that the 2011 Oscar race dipped so deeply and distinctly into the nostalgia of the past it would be hard to tell what era we were living in. Films stripped of sexuality, stories about mostly white males – buttoned up collars, ladies in dresses – memories of mother, father, of the beginning and of the end. War horses from World War I, black maids from the Civil Rights South, Paris in the 1930s, Paris during the birth of film magic, Hollywood’s silent era, And then roaring forward to how it all looks like now – the echoes of 9/11, Baseball and what changed it – there’s Brad Pitt, sinewy biceps hugged by knit shirts, yet no hot sex in sight. There’s George Clooney as faithful sad sack to his unfaithful wife. His daughters need focus and he’ll provide it. But sex for either of the sexiest men alive? Forget it. There is no time for sex this year – not when you look back to then, not when you try to settle in to now.
At least when Martin Scorsese set out to make Hugo he specifically said he was making a movie his 13-year-old daughter would like. My own 13-year-old can’t decide which movie is her favorite of the year: Hugo or The Artist. These are movies made for her, all right. And the other seven too. What is it about movies lately? Is it the mood of the moment? Is economic uncertainty driving the box office to the economic security of “family friendly” films?
What is it about the Oscars lately? You know it’s an odd year when Alexander Payne’s most accessible film to date, The Descendants, is the only film in the Oscar lineup with ANY profanity in it. Tree of Life the only movie with even the slightest hint of sexuality in it. (And even that’s expressed as a kind of shameful ghost of the beginnings of sexuality — what drives erotic thought?) Still, you have to marvel at the Academy’s most abstract choice for Best Picture ever. Under the old rules, Tree of Life would not have gotten in, but when we are afforded a look into their passionate choices? It beamed brightly and why wouldn’t it — it is the warm reflection of most of their childhoods played out onscreen.
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