Since Sunday night I’ve planned to write a scathing post about the Golden Globes, a once “renegade” award platform, that gets a little closer to being Oscar Jr. every year.
But now it’s Wednesday, and Sunday seems like forever ago, and people probably don’t care. Instead of going into depth I’m going to complain about one small aspect of the Globes, and that was their readiness to suck off James Cameron just like everyone else in the world currently.
Let’s get this right: Avatar has one thing going for it and that’s the look, the beauty of it (if you’re so inclined). Not once in all the raves I’ve heard about the movie has anyone mentioned how well written, or acted it was. And that’s because it wasn’t. In fact, most people I’ve talked to have said “It’s not a great story, but it’s so beautiful.”
No I haven’t seen it, no I won’t see it. There’s no need. I’m quite willing to believe that it’s deserving of immense kudos when it comes to technology, special effects, makeup, and what have you. But there is no way, in my opinion, that a movie without great writing or great acting is anywhere close to be deserving of a title such as “Best Film.”
Ryan W. Bradley has pumped gas, changed oil, painted houses, swept the floor of a mechanic's shop, worked on a construction crew in the Arctic Circle, fronted a punk band, and managed an independent children's bookstore. He now works in marketing. His latest book is Nothing but the Dead and Dying, a collection of stories set in Alaska. He lives in southern Oregon with his wife and two sons.